SpiderMoth Lives!

The Tale of a Moth and a Spider

Once upon a time, there was a young lady.

Said young lady sits on the window pane. In her hands she holds some sort of craft, and is finishing up the last touches with a couple more frantic sews. She pricks her finger and hisses, shoving her wounded finger into her mouth for a second —just a quick second!— only to go right back to sewing.

She was but a passing scalleywag, however, due to unforeseen events, ended up requested to go to a ball.

Finally, she finished her craft! She went over to the nightstand and looked into the mirror. Glaring at her one golden eye, she grimaces. "There is no way in the nine circles of hell I will allow myself to go through with this." She took up her eyepatch from a coatrack, and slipped it over her other eye. This eye was no good, and not quite a sight to see... it was better this way.

This young lady was a pirate, and the most fearsome of them all.

She pulled her hat from beneath the bed and fastened it onto her belt, throwing a rather large coat over herself. She grabbed her small pouch and heaved her bag onto her back. She was ready to go.

At said ball, Princess Charlie had made a decree: the one she'd marry was none other than Vaggie, who happened to be —

"...Me." Vaggie takes a moment to facepalm, groaning in frustration. Why did she have to choose her, of all people? Why not Lord Alastor? Or Lord-Sir Pentious? Or Duchess Nifty, or Lady Bomb? Hell, even Lord Husk would be a better fit! But not her, not Captain Vaggie —no way! Vaggie may be an airborne entity by nature, but she belongs on the water, gliding the winds into the World That Comes Tomorrow; she wants to keep traveling to smell the spice from every nook and cranny of the world, to seize ships from every yellowbelly daring to cross her, to rough house with every sorry squadron atop the floorboards and to sleep facing the stars, all while her ship, the Sea Moth, rocks gently: as if it were a giant cradle. Yes, that is where Vaggie belongs. Not standing beside some cheesy, smiling two-faced, tomato-cheeked—

"—snout-nose-having, bow tie NO collar-wearing, ghostface, pretty-pretty-Princess in constant distress, same ponytail having, no-good shit dripping, class-lacking, dumb look-on-her-face —ugh!"

So, 'tis be her plan: once the time is right,

Vaggie peeks out the window. All clear; she grabs her makeshift rope and throws it over the edge. She watched it with mild interest as it unfolds all the way down into darkness, where she'd fall into water. From there, she'd have to carefully swim through the moat.

The little moth would fly into the night!

Down and down Vaggie flew as she clutched onto the joined fabrics for dear life. Quickly, she fell right into the water, spinning herself in a way as to make as little noise as possible.

Princess Charlie would be heartbroken, for her spark had flown like a kite,

Vaggie swam and quickly pulled herself up onto land, and dashed into the dark woods looming over the castle. They were menacing and silent. However, this phased her none: she just wanted to rid herself of this problem and return to her life. After all, she had never expressed to Charlie any desire to be with her —the two hadn't even dated! No, no, no —more like Princess Charlie took a liking to Vaggie, and figured she'd have everything go her way at the drop of a hat, all because she's the princess. As if! Vaggie doesn't abide by such authority. Charlie and her family may be royalty, but they are not a fearsome force to her. Why, she's seen much worse on her seafaring endeavors!

But Vaggie knew — "Fit like a puzzle" —Them? Not quite.

While running, Vaggie suddenly froze when she heard a snap. She glanced around. All she saw was darkness. It was chilly, and she could still taste a slightly metallic nippyness. Hairs stood up on her body.