I Found Out Felicity Wasn’t Just A Name And Had To Use It Immediately. This One’s A Downer But I

"Spring, please come down from there." Pinocchio pleaded with the feline, worried that the reckless thing would fall from the high key rack it had decided to take a nap on. He tended to forget that cats always landed on their feet, able to meet the ground with ease from a relatively long fall.

The orange cat purred with disinterest, stretching after his interrupted snooze to only half regard the puppet below.

"Come on now, please?" Pinocchio asked again, holding out his arms to beckon the animal to him.

Spring gave him as unimpressed of a look as a cat could manage, dangling his squishy pink paws over the side as if to taunt him. He had no intentions of leaving this spot. As far as he was concerned, it was now a throne made specifically for him.

From here, he could easily watch anyone who passed by in their daily tasks around the hotel, perfect entertainment for such a lazy being. It was also much warmer than his designated bed provided by Lady Antonia, the height allowing him to take advantage of the heat that rose from the fireplaces which kept the hotel from being as frigid as the weather outside.

And what's best, he could refuse any and all petting until he was ready to accept them on his own terms. Meaning that by the same token, he was able to tease the little puppet to his devious hearts content.

Pinocchio sighed, placing a hand on his hip and tapping his foot in irritation. "I was going to give you a treat too you know, but I suppose you don't want it." He said, turning and beginning to walk away.

Spring's ears perked up at the word 'treat’. His favorite word, if he had to pick just one. His short nap was instantly forgotten as he leapt from his perch and landed with a thump on the floor, following the puppet and loudly meowing his sincere apologies. He hadn't meant it, honest. Only a little teasing and then he would have mercy. It's a cats job after all, they were supposed to make people work for affection. He deserves a reward in that case, right?

Pinocchio concealed a knowing smirk by looking straight ahead, continuing to walk down the hall and partly ignoring Spring. "A shame, they were really tasty ones, so I hear, tuna flavored." He lamented in a tone of fake disappointment, glancing down out of the corner of his eye at the increasingly excited feline.

"You like that kind, don't you Spring?"

Of course he liked them! Didn't this silly boy know fish was a cats favorite thing in the whole world? A delicacy, the likes of which has never had a worthy competitor?

The orange tabby meowed louder, the sound echoing through the halls as he tried to convey his want for the treat he almost foolishly passed up. When the puppet didn't slow or even spare him another glance, Spring decided to take drastic measures and hastened his pursuit. His paws made quick little taps on the tile floor as he trotted ahead of him, forcing him to stop at the risk of stepping on him.

Pinocchio halted the descent of his boot just in time to avoid it coming down on Springs long tail. The cat meowed innocently and stood on its haunches to press its front paws onto his thighs, looking up at him with wide, shining eyes that begged for what was promised.

And though the puppets heart had proven quite devious in its own right, it caved to the adorable creatures antics rather quickly. "Oh alright, you can have just one." He relented, reaching into his pocket and tugging out a small pouch, then tipping it over and shaking it until four fishy kibbles fell into his palm.

Kneeling down, he held his hand out and gestured with his fingers for the other to take them. "Here you go."

Spring gave a quick meow of gratitude and purred as he ate the treats from the boys hand, relishing in the delicious flavor that would surely leave him craving more for days to come. This had most certainly been worth the unplanned exercise.

Once every crumb was gobbled up, he sat and cleaned his paws despite the fact they hadn't been dirtied during his snack. A cat must have proper etiquette too, of course.

Pinocchio smiled and reached out with the intent of petting the top of Springs head, only to gasp and jerk back in surprise as the finicky feline flattened its ears and hissed its displeasure.

While Spring had happily agreed to treats, he had done no such thing with pets.

He stood as the cat pointedly turned its chin up and began to walk away, a sass to its gait as it headed back in the direction of an eagerly awaiting second nap.

Another discouraged sigh left the confused puppet. "Why are you so mean to me.." He said, more to himself since he expected the tabby to be ignoring him already. "Next time I will tell you they're tuna, but they'll really be liver."

Spring stopped briefly in shock and hissed again, more vicious than the previous one, then dashed the rest of the way to the lobby as if to escape the very idea of such a wicked betrayal. 🎭🐈

I wrote this in honor of the nights I spent in the dark, just the moon and myself. (And the occasional cat that would join me)

The sound of muffled sobbing drew me to a bright, rainy windowpane, where a weeping woman hid herself behind a curtain. On broken breath she begged me to retrieve her baby for her, her cries growing in their violence while she told of the night her family had cruelly taken her daughter away. I nodded to her shadowed form and agreed to the task, hoping to spare her some of those bitter tears.

I set out to search near city hall as she instructed, the gears in my core quickened their turns at the puppets I found stalking the courtyard. Following an odd sense of urgency I dispatched them within a minutes time, the thought that I’d arrived too late to save her child from the gruesome ends the other humans had met loomed at the forefront of my mind.

Then, a flash of lightning exposed a fallen stroller close to a garden bush, and a small humanoid shape caught my eye amongst the wreckage. As I neared, there was something that could only be described as ‘fear’ in me, it gave a tremble to my fingers and I lost the grip around the sword I held, digging my fingernails into my empty palm without it there to stop me until a clearer picture came into view. My eyes narrowed at the discovery that was more welcome, but less expected.

No blood, no ivory bones stripped of their flesh. Tipped over onto the cold ground and halfway pulled from wet, lacy blankets…lay a plastic doll. The rain dripped into its painted blue eyes that reminded me briefly of my own, spilling down its expressionless face when another drop fell and caused an overflow.

Could this be her child? The way she had spoken of it implied it was real, did someone take the child and leave a doll as its trade? There were no other children here, anything once alive was long since slaughtered by mindless puppets and the consequent litter of remains consisted of adult humans.

I bit the inside of my lip as I pondered what next I should do. I didn’t want to disappoint the woman, although I stood alone her sobs returned to my ears and I made a choice then, this would be better than to leave with nothing. Gathering it up carefully, I pulled a damp blanket from the least sodden part of the stroller and tucked it tight around the dolls body. With it secure and warm like a real baby should be, I carried it back to the rainy window, still unsure if I had found the right one.

To my surprise, when the woman parted the curtains she looked relieved, crying tears of joy instead of sadness as she took it from my arms. “Thank you, kind one, my sweet Elena has come back to me, isn’t she beautiful?” The woman asked as she gazed at Elena with a fondness in her smile, petting the unmoving child with shaking, grey colored hands.

Though confused, I felt it wrong to inform her that this was only a doll, it seemed of such great importance to her.

So…I lied, “Yes, she is beautiful.”

The woman’s smile widened at my deceptive answer, stretching the bluish scales at her cheeks. She began to rock Elena back and forth, humming a tune in a wavery voice. I felt a strange pressure lift from my chest once her tears dried on her ashen face, as if I’d been weighed down by the small drops of water somehow.

Perplexity came forward to ensure my steps remained heavy and I left the window more troubled than when I’d happened upon it. The human woman clearly loved Elena despite that she wasn’t real. She was only a doll, much like me. The baby didn’t eat, didn’t breathe, didn’t smile, just like me. And yet the woman cared for her all the same.

How curious that someone could show affection so pure to inanimate beings, to love them as if they were the same as them.

I wonder of the difference in outcome should I have told her the truth, but the relief in her eyes appeared a rare gift to her. This time lying hadn’t been a necessity, not like the lie given to the doorman at hotel Krat that tricked him to let me in. I believe this lie was told as an act of kindness, and while I searched for it, I couldn’t find a trace of harm in that. 🎭🦋

//I just really liked this part of the game and wanted to write a scene from his pov, P is both a murder machine and a sweetheart.

I just really like this blurry shot of him in the trailer. 🎭

His smile>>>>>>>>>>>

He pouts and I think it’s really cute

The human heart was designed for torment, and the mind for disease. But what of mine? Will I succumb to the same fate? 🎭🦋

It had to be done. The masked man was given enough warning that he wouldn’t be permitted to harm Geppetto, sadly, warnings are not always considered.

The blood felt wrong on Pinocchio’s hands, viscous and warm before it began to cool in September’s night air. Made all the more unpleasant by the unease sinking into the pit of his gut like a jagged stone the longer he looked at it.

It’d never occurred to him that he might be required to end the life of a human in his quest to save the city of Krat, but it seems some have gone as mad as the barbarous puppets they so fiercely abhorred. No different in the ways they preyed upon innocents, therefore no different in the way they must be dealt with. However…

Killing humans, that is what the frenzied ones do. He isn’t like them, is he? Surely not, his actions were based in reason and he’d taken the steps to ensure they were a last resort, but his appearance after winning that fight diluted the sweetness of justice, smearing a film of acrid uncertainty to coat his tongue.

Bespattered with an iron scented crimson…Pinocchio appeared disconcertingly similar to those monsters responsible for the matching color on every brick and stone that was set in Krat, much of which he’d gotten an eyeful on the way to his fathers rescue.

Geppetto’s pride and gratitude as he stepped from his hiding place in the carriage made a grand try to relieve him of a smidgen of wrongness, as did the elder inventor’s certainty that should he have spared the man’s life there was little likelihood of the favor being returned to either of them. It was imperative he be subdued, and if Pinocchio had stopped after beating him within an inch, the brutality of the man’s death wouldn’t have been any less when left to be finished off by something else.

Pinocchio had granted the masked maniac the only mercy he’d allowed.

The puppet wanted to take the reassurance to heart, he really did, but the blood has since dried to a tight, itchy crust, different from the lasting slick of machine oil that typically covered him after he’s felled one of his own kind. And there was an unrest amongst the thoughts that brought to him, no longer calm and indifferent like they were after defeating the others.

He knew he didn’t like the blood on his skin, but lacked the comprehension to decipher whether that was limited to the physical aspect, and he’d yet to gain the emotional depth vital in telling if he felt strongly enough to consider it an active dislike. What a struggle to be so new to one’s emotions, so inexperienced in the ways of being, at least partially, a living thing.

Pinocchio lead his father back to hotel Krat with an ultimate understanding that disquiet wouldn’t stay a stranger.

Try as he did to pin the events of tonight as a necessary evil, throughout the return his mind forbade any stillness around the discomforting sensation on his hands, and most importantly, what it represented of him. 🎭🦋

// I have never enjoyed an exploration of any character’s psyche more than this one’s.