Chapter Text
There is nothing. That is the most disconcerting thing here. The emptiness, the nothingness, the quiet of it all. Grand Mother Silk cannot fathom it, how empty everything about her is. She had done what she thought right, to make it all right. Hornet and Lace should have escaped- and now she was this. Was this death? She had imagined it far more peaceful than a nothing, a concept of her without it truly being her. She had imagine fading into nothing and simply never awakening again, but at the moment- she was not fading. She was nothing, and yet she felt awake, aware, every moment of her time being spent in the idea of being this almost something.
What could she do? What was she supposed to do? Was there anything even possible? She couldn’t breathe- and there was nothing to breathe. Couldn’t feel anything about her, but there was nothing to feel. Everything about her was nothing all in one moment. What was this? It was torture, having nothing, but still being. She was still being- the Void and consumed her but it was almost as if it had missed a spot.
And as if triggered by that thought, she could feel everything.
The movement of her body sent agony down her spine, each humming thread of her veins pulsating with pain she had never experience before, every single second adding more and more into it before she screamed, tearing across vocal cords she wasn’t even sure she had anymore, her voice unable to even echo on the emptiness around her, before it went dark.
Inside the room of a young boy, doing his best to win a level of the game he had just gotten a few days prior. Tristan had gotten this as a gift, actually- no special occasion, rather the game had just come out and Dave knew he’d like it. He was right, of course, as he usually was about these kinds of things. PlayRobot sat next to him, her optics glued to the screen in excitement. It was his third attempt at this boss, after all, and he was rather close to actually beating it-
Game Over flashed across his screen, and Tristan groaned, flopping back onto his bed, letting the controller fall from his hands as he did.
“Aww! You almost had it!” PlayRobot looked up from where she had been, more or less, sitting on the floor. Tristan huffed, sitting up to exit out of the game properly, clearly annoyed. PlayRobot frowned for a moment, as if trying to think of how to fix it, before visibly perking up. “Hey- we’ve been at this for awhile. Why don’t we get some snacks?” She grins, and Tristan lets her energy cheer him back up- it’s not that hard with her. She was kind of built for that, after all. Her energy was infectious, and it was hard not to smile with her.
“Yeah, alright. Maybe I’ll get it if I have something to eat.” He slides off the bed, letting PlayRobot use his arm to get her leg back under her properly, before they both move out of the room and towards the kitchen.
Dave’s room is across the house from them- he hears the door open and leans back slightly- the way he has set up his room means he can see out the door, though he can only really see to the living room. Neither of his kids come into view though, and he trusts them not to be getting into too much out there. Besides, he leaves his door open so he can hear them just in case, and so he just leans back to his desk to keep working, figuring if they wanted to see him, they would. Though he, of course, knew Tristan would be working at that game for awhile. He should probably check on them soon. He makes a note to check in in about an hour- make sure they haven’t gorged themselves on snacks before he works to figure out something for lunch.
Tristan, one track mind, barely sends anything else in the kitchen a glance as he beelines straight to the pantry, grabbing a few packs of goldfish and tosses them over to PlayRobot, who catches them and spins slightly to look around as Tristan continues to dig for something sweeter.
The window catches her eye. With Tristan still busy, PlayRobot sends him a glance before sliding over to the big sliding door to the backyard to look out across the grass and see if she can see any bird at the feeder. She looks out, notes the slightly cloudy sky and the woman in the grass, and the squirrels that were on the fence and- wait what?
PlayRobot stared out the window for a long moment at the collapsed, unmoving figure on their backyard’s grass, before turning back to Tristan, who had stood up, triumphant, with a bag of chips ahoy cookies in one hand. Tristan comes over, trying to get it open, when PlayRobot taps his shoulder to get his attention.
“Huh?” Tristan looked up, then follows PlayRobot’s eye line outside, to where the odd woman remained unmoving. “Oh.”
They stare out for a long moment, before PlayRobot dumps their snack haul on the dining table, and slides the door open. Tristan follows behind her, closing it so he didn’t let flies in, following her over to stand next to the collapsed form.
Not that anyone in this family had much room to talk, but she looked really weird. She was almost completely monochrome, except the brown on her limbs, which looked thin and spindly, like she couldn’t use them for much. It reminded Tristan of Dave’s legs in a way, and he let himself wonder, for a moment, if she had trouble walking like he did. She looked almost bug like in form, with the large body of a bug, with a large long thin top body. Her head was pitch black, with stark white hair scattered across it. She only had the one arm, the spot where the other should be looked scarred over, her one arm outstretched as if she had been reaching for something before she collapsed.
Tristan looked around, as PlayRobot continued to stare down at her in confusion. He saw a thin stick near by, picking it up and poking the woman in the arm carefully. She doesn’t stir, and PlayRobot takes the stick away, ponders it for a moment, and then pokes her a bit harder. Still no response.
“I think we should tell Dad.”
PlayRobot nods, dropping the stick next to the woman, and the duo turns to go back inside, passing through the kitchen to stand in the open doorway of Dave’s room. Dave catches the movement in the corner of his eye, turning his upper body towards them- the wheelchair really was just a hassle to turn on carpet, he wasn’t going to mess with it if he really didn’t have to. “What’s up?”
“There’s a weird woman passed out in our backyard.” Tristan says, and watches an odd trail of emotions cross Dave’s face. Confusion, a brief thought of humor- but neither of them look like they’re joking, and Dave settles on resignation, confusion, and a tad bit of almost a fear.
“I- Alright, I’ll. Come check on her. Then.” Because what else are you supposed to say when your eleven year old son comes into your room and tells you there’s a woman passed out in your backyard?
Back in the backyard, the three of them stare down at the still yet to move form of this woman. Tristan was right- she is weird, Dave thought, but catches sight of the stick and can’t help a little bit of humor. Of course they poked her with a stick. They’re kids, of course they’re going to default to something like that, even if a tad odd.
She looks almost human, but too bug like to actually be that- but that’s not important. Dave shifts slightly- he can’t reach the floor too well in the chair, but Tristan and PlayRobot pick up very quickly on what he wants to do, and the two of them help lift the surprisingly light woman, especially for how large she actually is, up into Dave’s lap in his chair. That way, he can turn and get them all inside, even if he struggles a bit to push his chair. It’s the right thing to do, after all- they can figure out logistics of everything later. Right now, this woman needed help, and he was the only one who could really provide it in the moment. He debated calling someone but- well, he’d never seen anyone like this before.
And maybe he had a tad bit of fondness towards Sci-Fi- he made himself a robot daughter to so his son could have a companion, after all- and with all the movies where something not quite human shows up and needs help in mind, Dave... Ran with that a little. If she wanted him to call someone, he would, of course, but for now priority was getting her awake and comfortable, if that was even going to be possible.
Getting her settled on the couch, he shifted back slightly to look at her. There was no discernible facial features, even with how she was settled now, and her limbs didn’t look sturdy enough to hold her. They looked almost similar to his own legs, and, from experience, that shape was not conducive to being able to walk around steadily on them. This might be more difficult- if she couldn’t move, and potentially couldn’t speak, communication would be difficult, and she might panic upon waking. At the very least she had a hand, if only one. Maybe she could write? They’d have to figure that out when she woke up.
If she did.
Dave put that thought out of his mind- he wasn’t going to be thinking that kind of thing right now, no matter how much concern he actually had about if she was going to be okay. That missing arm looked weird- as if it were fresh and old at the same time, and Dave really didn’t know what to make of any of this.
He shook his head. Just wait until she wakes up. Then they can figure everything out.
Her head aches. Grand Mother Silk can feel her entire body aching, but it centers in her head, billowing out through her body in waves of aching pains. Every limb of hers feels almost disconnected, her entire form burns with the energy it takes to even start waking back up. Heaven knows how long she’s been out in this state- but the pain is a sign that she is once again somewhere real. Somewhere that isn’t that horrible painful nothing she had been in what felt like moments before.
Where ever she is now, it’s blue. Very blue. She can’t make too much out around her, as her vision takes a second to start solidifying again. There is a voice- it’s muffled, and it feels as if her ears are ringing, too loud, aching body burning as the noise slowly slowly eased out. She can feel it beginning to settle- she is Somewhere, and she’s thankful for that at least, if only because the Nothing it had been before felt the cause of the horrific aches through her body. She shifts, vision coming into focus as she tries to make sense of where she is.
“Are you alright?” The voice isn’t quite right- something synthetic, inhuman about it, and Grand Mother Silk turns her head towards the noise as everything solidifies. She cannot place what makes it so odd, so she puts it out of her mind for a long moment, trying to settle still- her body hurts in way she never knew it could, and now she has to try and exist outside of that.
Grand Mother Silk shifts, looking around carefully, finding someone who looks shaped like her, except he’s sitting in a chair with wheels, his legs replaced by more metal.
“Are you alright?” The man repeats, and she does not respond. How can she? She doesn’t know what’s going on, where she is- her body aches and her head feels as if it itself is a breaking cocoon. “Do you have a name you can say?”
Grand Mother Silk resolves to ignore the questions for now, bracing her arm underneath her and shoving up on the couch- only to almost collapse again with how dizzy she is. Her brain is trying to hatch itself from her skull, and she can’t manage to stay up until she’s finding herself staring back up at the ceiling. She tries gain- pushing herself up, trying to float as she’s supposed to, and instead she tumbles without grace to the floor, catching herself on her legs and arm.
“Woah! Okay!” The human moves over closer, and she lifts her head from her spot, managing to get up- they’re on eye level, and she’s not even standing yet. They’re so small here. Grand Mother Silk shakes with the effort of keeping herself up. “You still need rest- Kids- perfect timing.”
Two smaller beings have shown up- one looking closer to the human in the chair, but the other is very different, robotic, gliding forwards a bit ahead of the human. They look to her, both seemingly excited at the sight of her- though she could not, for the life of her, understand why. Neither of them know who she is, after all.
“Help me get her back up onto the couch, Tristan, PlayRobot.” Saying their names must have been for her benefit. The two kids look at him a tad weird, but move forwards. As uncomfortable as it is, she knows she cannot get back up herself, and allows herself to be lifted slightly back up, settling back onto their couch. Embarrassing- she should be able to handle this, to do this, but clearly the power is beyond her currently. Wherever she is, perhaps it steals it from her. Or perhaps she’s just exhausted.
“You’ve been out for a few hours.” The man says, and she looks to him again. “I’m Dave, by the way. Do you have any idea where you should be?”
She does. It’s not here, that’s for sure. But there is no way for her to say it, to communicate where she should be and where she is now. Grand Mother Silk remains unmoving, and Dave sighs softly, leaning back in his chair.
“I should’ve figured honestly...”
“Can she not talk?” The boy speaks, and Dave shrugs a shoulder.
“She hasn’t said anything to me so far. She did just wake up- maybe she doesn’t understand us? I don’t know-“ His eyes dart back to her, an odd look in his eyes before he nods. “Alright- I got a job for you two.”
They both perk up at that, very obviously, and Dave smiles- she finds it almost cute. She knows the look in his eyes well, thinking of her own child.
He doesn’t yet give the children their apparent job, eyes darting to her one more time. “Can you walk?” He asks, as if not expecting an answer, and she, as she had been this whole time, gives none. Of course. Dave nods slightly, clearly having expected that. He looks her over, settling on her legs for a moment. “Maybe not... Kind of like mine...” He mutters, more to himself, and he seems to almost forget himself before the machine speaks up again.
“A job for us?” She asks, and Dave starts a bit, as if he had forgotten.
“Right! Okay. I’m going to go see if I can call Muko- maybe he can help out here- her legs look a lot like mine do, might make it hard to walk.”
Tristan perks up. “You’re gonna make her a chair too?”
“Most likely. If she needs it. I want you two to keep an eye on her- if you can get anything out of her, that’s for the better. I’ll be right in my room, alright?” Once they both answer, Dave turns, rolling off to his room, talking quietly to himself. Grand Mother Silk can’t quite make out the words, and the ones she can doesn’t make any sense to her.
This leaves her with the children. They stare up at her, and she stares back in silence.
“... You’re kind of creepy.” Tristan says, and Grand Mother Silk carefully ignores that. He is a child- they say things that are a bit rude at first, and, she can admit, she probably does appear rather creepy to him, if this is how they look compared to herself.
“You can’t just say that!” PlayRobot argues, and Tristan shrugs a shoulder.
“Yeah, but I’m right.”
“Well! ... You still shouldn’t. It’s rude.”
PlayRobot turns back to her from that, as Tristan seems to just accept that at face value. Either way, her potential fear factor for them doesn’t deter either of them. They hop up onto the couch on either side of her, and Grand Mother Silk looks towards either of them, as PlayRobot turns something on in front of her, the light flashing and- it’s a lot to take in, but clearly they’re enjoying it. She puts it out of her mind for now, even as annoying as it is to look at.
“Sooo...” Tristan spoke, looking up at her, managing to stay rather calm as Grand Mother Silk turned to look at him again. “Do you have a name we can call you? Cause I’ve been calling you Weird Lady but everyone says that’s mean.”
“Because it is!” PlayRobot says on her other side, shaking her head. “I told you not to say that.”
“Well she’s not arguing.” Tristan gestures to her, and she turns back to him. “Right?”
She doesn’t say anything.
“See!”
“We don’t know if she can or not!” PlayRobot huffs, shaking her head, then looking back up to Grand Mother Silk. “Can you answer? At all?”
She can’t. But that’s kind of the conundrum here. PlayRobot sighs, looking back towards the TV, a little frown on her screen as she tries to figure out how to solve this little problem. Tristan shrugs and turns back to his snacks, a bag open on his lap as he stares ahead, seemingly having given up on trying to get her to talk for now.
This suits her fine. She’s never had to try to talk to people before. There was never a need to do so. Grand Mother Silk settles quietly. She tries, for a moment, to follow whatever show they’re watching, but her head hurts the longer she looks at the screen, and instead, she tilts her head back to look upwards, at the ceiling. It’s a plain, simple color, and that helps ease the pain for a moment.
There, her mind wanders. She tries to think, casting her mind back to what had happened before.
The fight, with the little Hornet, Lace stopping her. She remembers losing her limb, the way her body aches at the missing feeling, her entire body burning at the loss of silk. The two of them falling eternally into Void- her cocoon, to protect her Lace.
She knows that she gave Hornet silk, to get her and Lace out, to save them. Grand Mother Silk only remembers the feeling of the Void eating her apart, her vision going out as she watches the two of them be launched up, away-
Did Lace escape?
Grand Mother Silk realizes she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know if her daughter is safe.
She entrusted that onto Hornet, because what else was she supposed to do? She only had so much silk left to give, the Void had eaten so much of it already, taken so much of her in her desperate efforts to protect her daughter.
Yet, she doesn’t know.
The panic builds in her chest, a burning fear she’s unaccustomed to feeling, she doesn’t know how to handle the concept, the idea, of losing Lace, and not doing everything in her power to save her-
There’s a tap on her side, gentle but firm, and Grand Mother silk turns her head, burying the burgeoning fear until she can’t feel it, to look at the boy whose staring at up at her, head tilted.
“Do you want a chip?” He asks, holding up what must be this chip to her. It looks like a small fragile disc- there’s some kind of powder on it, and Grand Mother Silk takes it carefully with her hand, settles it into her palm to stare at it contemplatively. “Do you not know what a chip is?” Tristan asks- there’s a hint of humor in his voice, that much she can tell, and she looks to him again for a moment, before returning to her inspection.
“She can’t answer us, Tristan.” PlayRobot says, half aware of it- she’s still rather deep in thought, that same little frown on her screen. Tristan doesn’t seem bothered by it.
“Oh yeah...” He frowns, then looks up at Grand Mother Silk again. “It’s food, if you’re worried about that.”
Food. That may help her replenish her silk faster- though she’s unsure. She hasn’t ever used as much silk as she did in the Void trying to protect Lace before. She lifts her hand to her face, pressing the chip against it- it slides into the empty place where a mouth could have been, and disappears. She tastes... Salt? It’s not particularly salty, but she’s unsure of what the taste of it actually is. She’s never had anything similar to this before.
Tristan stares at her in silence for a long moment, presumably confused and perhaps a tad weirded out by the display, but she doesn’t show any signs of displeasure- she isn’t upset, of course. It’s quite enjoyable. He doesn’t know that she’s feeling that, of course, so he instead just turns away again, frowning slightly.
There’s a long moment of silence. Grand Mother Silk finds herself wondering if perhaps it would be easier if she could talk the way that they do- though that thought only lasts for a second before PlayRobot gasps next to her, sitting up suddenly, quickly enough to bring Tristan’s attention back to them.
“What?” He asks, and PlayRobot looks to him grinning again.
“I know what we can do! She can’t talk, but she still has hands, and a head! She can still nod, or do a thumbs up, or something like that!”
She doesn’t know what they’re actually meaning by any of that. Clearly, however, it had brought the children into a tizzy of excitement, and Grand Mother Silk much prefers that to the quiet melancholy almost silence they had been in previously.
“Yeah! We can teach her that!” Tristan slides off the couch, then looks over to her. Grand Mother Silk pauses, but follows, slowly pushing her body off the cushions, but letting herself fall, leaning up against the couch. She is much more at their height settled here, and she presumes that’s what they wanted, since they clearly approve of her choice.
“It might be best if you show it off.” PlayRobot says, gesturing to her square head. “I’m not too good at that without getting a bit unbalanced.” Tristan moves in front of her, sitting on the table in front of the TV.
“Yeah, okay.” He looks to Grand Mother Silk, who stares towards him, giving the best signs she’s paying attention that she can in the moment. “So, uhm- when we can’t talk, or don’t wanna, we have uhm- PlayRobot?”
“Nonverbal communication!”
“Yeah! That! So it helps when we can’t use words, like you can’t!” Tristan is grinning, and Grand Mother Silk does find the idea of being able to communicate even some of her wants or needs to be appealing, so she settles to quietly listen, as Tristan talks for a bit longer about nonverbal communication, until PlayRobot made a noise like clearing her throat, and Tristan laughed, nodding.
“Right, right, okay!” He was short enough that sitting up on the table meant he could still kick his feet a bit. “So! For a yes, we can do either this.” He bobs his head up and down. Grand Mother Silk mimics the motion, finds it doesn’t tug anything too painfully. The two kids seem even more excited she’s playing along. “OR! Or this!” He lifts his hand up, curls his fingers into his palm, and points his thumb upwards. Grand Mother silk looks to her own hand- her fingers are a tad long, but they curl just fine either way, lifting her thumb in the same way the boy does.
“YES!” PlayRobot shouts, then calls back an apology when Dave peeks his head out for a split second. “Yes!”
“Did you like the chip?” Tristan asks, grinning wide enough that Grand Mother Silk almost worries he’s going to split his face wide open. She pauses, then carefully nods her head. Tristan scrambles off the table, ending up next to the couch and grabbing the bag the chips had come from- something yellow and crinkly. He holds it out to her. “You can have some more, if you want!”
She finds she does. She carefully takes another, much to their continued excitement.
“You probably should’ve waited until we taught her the nos to ask that.” PlayRobot says, but Tristan shrugs.
“If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have reacted, so we wouldn’t gotten a no either way.”
That logic can’t really be faulted, but PlayRobot still insists upon teaching her the no- shaking her head side to side, then the same fist and thumb motion, except with the thumb pointed downwards instead of upwards- to make sure she can truly communicate something at least.
“And- if you’re not sure you can also-“ Tristan pushes his shoulders up to his ears in one quick motion. Grand Mother Silk mimics the movement with her own. It tugs are her missing limb, where it feels almost completely healed and yet not at the same time. What the Void did to her a mystery. She expected to die. Instead she’s here. Perhaps almost healing a limb is not quite out of it’s scope.
With that, she finally starts looking around, truly. She knows how to communicate in the most basic of forms- perhaps eventually she will figure out more, but for now that is all they need. Grand Mother Silk tilts her head, then points towards the large screen ahead of her, one that looks similar to PlayRobot, but lacks the distinct face. Tristan looks back at it.
“The TV?” She nods. “Uhh... Do you know what a TV is?” Here, she pauses, then shakes her head.
“Woah...” PlayRobot looks between her and the TV, eyes a tad wide. “I bet I really confused you then!”
She pauses, then allows the slight nod. The girl had been confusing at first, upon seeing her, and there is no shame in letting her know that. She is a child, after all. She seems to find some level of joy in it, though Grand Mother Silk doesn’t quite understand why.
“Okay, uhhh... Well we use this to play games or watch fun shows!” Tristan turns to grab something off the side of the couch, a thin black rectangle that brings the TV back to life- she’s pretty sure it had been turned off at some point when Tristan was talking before, but it had only pinged in the sense of losing an annoyance.
It is just as bright and just as loud as before. Grand Mother Silk doesn’t think she much enjoys it. Clearly her reaction is noticeable enough for PlayRobot to turn it off, leaning over her slightly to reach the object in Tristan’s hand. Instead of dwelling, she points then to the thing he had used to turn it on in the first place.
“Oh- uh, this is the remote! It controls it, so we don’t have to get up to do it.” Tristan shrugs, setting it to the side, and Grand Mother Silk looks around, continuing to gesture towards things she doesn’t recognize.
Thankfully, they never seem to tire of it, even taking it as a little game, who gets to answer when and how, what they’ll say. They argue over little things, squabbling but never seeming to lose their enjoyment for it. It reminds her, bittersweetly, of Lace.
Eventually, PlayRobot drags out some books, to try and explain more of the world she now resides in outside of the things in this home. She has several open on the floor in front of the three of them, as Tristan sits playing a game on the TV- it may be annoying, but Grand Mother Silk finds herself slowly getting used to it, enough so he can play something that isn’t too flashy.
PlayRobot has one open on bugs. Despite how humorous Grand Mother Silk finds it, seeing them and how similar plenty of them look to her own kind, she can’t communicate that, especially in any way that would make it truly make sense to them. PlayRobot has started just reading parts of it, showing the pictures and the bugs. Tristan had, briefly, said she wouldn’t be interested in it all, but Grand Mother Silk found an odd level of comfort in it.
“Spiders are kind of freaky.” PlayRobot says, flipping to another page in the book, pointing towards an eight legged little arachnid, dangling from a web. “I dunno- Tristan likes them though.”
“Just the big ones!” He grins, looking over towards them. “You can see all the hairs on their legs, it’s really cool looking.”
Grand Mother Silk pats his shoulder as he turns back to his game, then looks to PlayRobot once more, whose pointing at the dangling little spider picture.
“They make this kind of silk? To make into their webs, which is really strong and also pretty cool I think- Huh?”
She sat up at the word- Silk. Like her own silk. She traces the line on the image, the silk, with a careful finger, head tilted slightly. PlayRobot pushes the book a bit closer to let her, pointing to another picture on the next page, of the spider’s web. Large ornate, but clearly delicate in some form.
Grand Mother Silk ponders it for a moment, tracing the circles of the design. Tristan pauses the game to watch her quietly, intrigued just in the same form as PlayRobot is. Then, she points to herself.
PlayRobot blinks, looking between her and the picture. “The web? Are- can you make those?”
Not quite. She shakes her head carefully, searching the page, but the words aren’t quite right, she can’t quite read them- frustrating. Instead, Grand Mother Silk reaches over to the first picture and taps the singular piece of silk.
“You said it was like silk, yeah PlayRobot?” Tristan asks, and Grand Mother Silk nods at the sound. PlayRobot perks up them.
“You can make silk!” She says, and Grand Mother Silk nods then, lifting her hand and concentrating- it has been several hours since she woke up, several more since she arrived here. She does not have much, but she has enough to create a small thread of it, wrapping around her hand and settling. She holds it out in front of her, as both children crowd closer to stare at it in awe.
“Woahh...” Tristan reaches out carefully, and, when not stopped, takes the small bit of silk into his hand. “It’s soft...”
“Well yeah, it’s not called silk for no reason.” PlayRobot teases, looking at the way it flutters slightly in the wind.
She knows, now, she will never be able to get across her full name, not like this. But here, she has a chance at hitting part of it- enough to be referred to as something, instead of just the concept of the woman. Grand Mother Silk points at the silk that they’re looking at, then herself once more.
They don’t understand at first. They clearly understand she can make it- but why would she want to communicate that further right now?
It’s Tristan that finally catches on, eyes lighting up as the pieces click together. “Do... You want us to call you Silk?”
It is close enough. Lacking in the respect that she is used to receiving but- there is no one here who knows who she used to be, the power she used to wield. Maybe they will never know what kind of power she has, never know what she is capable of. Grand Mother Silk nods once.
It is not a shedding of the title. Grand Mother Silk simply sets it aside for the time being. This is not a place where she has a claim to a title. She doesn’t even know if there will ever be a time where she can truly be at the level she used to be, before coming here. If those here must call her something, at least it can be a part of her name if nothing else.
The children are, of course, elated at having a name to call her. They make a point to get her attention by saying it, when they want to talk about something, show her something new in the books or in the game.
There is an odd feeling in this moment. Grand Mother Silk watches them, reminded so much of her Lace and... It awakens a feeling in her once more. The protectiveness that made her rend her body apart in a desperate attempt to keep her child alive, the same burning feeling that made her use every bit of silk her body had to give just to give her daughter a chance at life she doesn’t know Lace even got.
It is a comforting feeling to refind. Perhaps it is not for her Lace, but that does not mean it is not important and comforting in the same breath. She will protect these two children, for however long she is set to stay here, even if it is until she truly dies.
There’s a noise from behind them, and Dave rolls back in, sighing softly, looking rather exhausted. Tristan is up in a moment, grinning as he runs up to him. “Dad! She has a name!”
With that, Dave lights up as well. “She told you a name?” His eyes dart to her, and she nods, another thing that makes Dave grin.
“Kind of.” PlayRobot says, lifting the book to show the spiders, explaining all that had happened while he was in the other room- teaching her to communicate, how she managed to get across her partial name, and Dave listens to every word, looking between the two children as they start talking over each other in order to explain- he lets them get it out, only guides them to sharing the time, and Grand Mother Silk finds herself almost impressed.
He handles them well. A natural born parent, it seems.
“Silk, huh?” Dave looks to her, and, in lieu of anything else, she inclines her head again. Dave nods, mumbling it again to himself. “Well, then. I had to explain everything to Muko, and he didn’t believe me at first, but looks like he does now. He’s gonna help make a chair so she can move easier.”
Grand Mother Silk looks to the chair that Dave himself is in. One like that might not work as well, considering her lack of an arm, and Dave looks towards her for a moment.
“Maybe a tad different from mine- since I kind of need both arms to move, heh...”
She nods at that. Appreciated, either way.
“Daaad, come watch me beat this boss finally!” Tristan looks towards his game again, and Dave sighs, but rolls up right next to the couch, leaning back slightly in his chair to get comfortable.
“Alright, alright. I’ll watch. Not much else to do until Muko can get here.”
With that, Tristan turns back to his game, grinning, trying again at the same boss he’d been trying at since Grand Mother Silk had started watching him, with the same level of determination as the start. PlayRobot looks up to her for a moment, then settles back into her spot, tugging the book closer to keep going through it with her.
Perhaps this could have felt like a curse, but as it stands now, Grand Mother Silk finds she doesn’t mind staying... Perhaps she could even enjoy it.