#noireart

Vaultborn! They are so puntable! LOOK AT THEM!

Hornet treating them like parasites is even funnier.

The way they popped up like whack-a-moles when you go back into the main hall is hilarious.

Also doodles

Bonus!

Father’s a wierdo.

He acts really weird compared to all the other bugs I’ve seen.

He moves weird, he watches weird, and he talks weird too. Even godmother acts more normal than he does.

Even mom says he’s a weirdo, sometimes.

I asked her why she got with him in the first place but she said it was something that I would understand when I’m “older.” Am I not old enough now?

When I’m at his big, bright home he’s usually the one escorting me around. I love to climb and use my silk to get away when no one’s looking—it’s the best time to explore—but mom and the deepnest maids always chastise me and put me back on the ground.

Father’s different…in his weird way.

It takes my mom a minute or two to notice I’m not right behind her anymore—so at least I have a little bit of fun before she ruins it!—but father notices it right away. The minute my claws leave the floor he always stops walking and looks at me. He doesn’t yell at me to get down, or try to pry me from the walls, or even cut my silk down! He just looks at me and tilts his sharp head and then keeps walking!

At least he lets me have fun.

It isn’t just that either.

Sometimes he takes me into his workshop and lets me help him tinker with stuff. He also tries to teach me a bunch of lessons about math and science and bunch of other boring stuff so I kind of zone out. Other times he lets me run around and play with some of the small junk lying around (mom got real fussy when I told her that). Though, there were a couple of times that I swore he just appeared right behind me to snatch something sharp away or grab me before I could trip and fall.

One time, I was playing with what looked to be a broken piece of glass. This time, I looked directly at dad to see what he would do and I saw eyes on the back of his head! They disappeared so quickly too and before I knew it, dad took the piece of glass away from me.

“You have eyes…on the back of your head!” I exclaimed.

“Oh?” He put his claw to the back of his head, as if there was something to feel, “Are you sure my child? I do not feel anything.”

“I saw! I saw!”

He chuckled and threw the piece of glass in the trash. “Such a vivid imagination!”