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Flora was alone in the house. In the Professor's house, that was, not quite her house, really, no matter what she hoped.
Her guardian was out at work, so she had been left to her own devices, again. She supposed he and Luke were still just trying to give her space to settle in and, to their credit, it wasn't exactly as if she was used to being around so many people... It got lonely rather quickly, though. So, no matter the sentiment, Flora didn't like being left alone in the house.
Some days were much better than others, but they were hard to predict. Some days, the Professor or Luke (Or sometimes both!) would spend the day with her, and although it was easy to tell that she was certainly playing second fiddle, no matter who she was with, there was still clearly effort being made to include her. Some other days, the Professor would even take her down to his university. It was somewhat unnerving seeing all these people that she wouldn't have a hope of knowing, coming from somewhere where she knew everyone, and everyone knew her, but intriguing all the same.
But that was precisely the problem; it was some days.
Back in St. Mystere, everything had been comfortably predictable, to an extent. The only real variables in the equation were herself and Bruno, as for as lifelike and real as she thought all of the robots to be, they were still just that - robots. They talked and walked and acted like humans, but if you did or said something that they were programmed to respond to, they would respond in the same way every time, without fail. She would know; she had lent the occasional hand fine-tuning some of them in more recent years!
In London, though, with the Professor and Luke, people were adaptable and unpredictable. You could ask someone in St. Mystere a thousand times what they thought of the weather, and they'd always offer you an explanation of their thoughts on it, but asking even people she was familiar with here that same question would yield unpatterned and strange results. You couldn't so much as guarantee an answer to the question, because that was just what people made of flesh rather than metal were like, fundamentally.
She could deal with the noise of London; that was only really more consistently present than it had been in St. Mystere. She could deal with the hustle and bustle of London, for although it was new and different, it was exciting all the same. But she could not deal with the spontaneous nature of everyone around her, flickering and dancing about on whims, constantly drawn between different places; if they were all moths, then St. Mystere was home to a single lightbulb where they all resided, whilst London was a great, towering chandelier.
The lock on the front door clicked open, and Flora jumped at the sound, setting down the book she'd been attempting to read before getting so lost in her thoughts. From there, she listened. She hadn't been expecting anyone any time soon, but these people didn't always stick to as solid patterns as what she was used to, so there was no use in panicking already.
She could hear light, uneven, and excited footsteps in the front room, and some slight humming, indicative both of someone who felt safe here, and someone eager to do something. Luke, then, it had to be.
Quietly, Flora slipped out of the room the Professor had given her, and towards the source of the noise. And there was Luke, as expected, hurrying to take off his shoes, hopping around on one foot as he did so, and scanning the room. He jumped a little when his gaze set on her, causing him to lose his balance and be sent careening into the nearest wall.
"Flora, hey- Woah!" he startled, clearly having not anticipated her presence. From the floor he groaned a little, rubbing his shoulder from where it had hit the wall with one hand, and waving sheepishly with the other.
"Are you alright?" worriedly, she blinked, not quite sure whether to approach or not.
With his balance much more easily centred from a sitting position on the floor, Luke had his other shoe off quickly, and was over to her side in no time.
"Oh, yeah, just a little bump, really," he shrugged, "Nothing to worry about,"
"That's good," she hummed, "I just couldn't be sure..."
Robots sustained critical injuries much more easily than humans. All it took was a bonk in the wrong place to knock a component loose and they would need to be taken in for repairs. But humans didn't worry about that sort of thing. They could just naturally repair themselves. Having been shut in her cottage for her own safety, treated as a delicate little flower, and surrounded by people just as fragile as she'd thought she must have been, up until recently that was, there was something quite fascinating in that.
It would be strange for her to linger on that with Luke, though, so she didn't. She already felt alien enough to him and the Professor as was.
"Yeah..." Luke trailed off, "Say, is the Professor in?"
She shook her head, "No, he hasn't got back yet,"
"He's running late, then? He told me he'd be back by now, but, ah, never mind... It can wait," thoughtfully, he hummed.
The Professor hadn't told Flora he'd made plans today. Not to arrive home early, and not to do something with Luke.
Ignorant to her discomfort at his words, Luke retrieved a couple of items from his bag and wandered merrily over to the kitchen table. Hurriedly, she followed him, having neither much of anything better to do, nor a vested interest in standing alone in the front room.
Her friend (That was what Luke was, right? It was hard to define social parameters when they were so ingrained in how people acted.) had some kind of worksheet and some pens out. She tried to read what it said, but on account of being on the other end of the table, had difficulty trying to decipher it upside-down.
"What's that?" curiously, she asked, instead.
"Huh?" he tilted his head to the side, "This? Just my homework,"
Flora had spent all of her education learning off of robots or picking up things second-hand from Bruno. She wondered what proper schools were like.
"Oh, that's..." she tried searching for the right word.
"Boring, really," Luke chuckled.
She slid her chair around the table to get a better look at the worksheet, Luke waited patiently for her, a slight smirk quirking at the corner of his lips. As she peered at the contents of this homework, all that really came to her was how different it was from what she was used to. Perhaps not in contents, but in the way it was set out and worded...
"Really, Flora, you're pretty lucky you don't have to do this stuff yet - it bores me half to tears, usually! I really think we'd be better off in general if they just set us puzzles to-" he continued.
"But it'd be better than doing nothing, right?" softly, she interjected.
"Huh?" Luke paused.
"Well, I just meant, that if you really had nothing else, to do, you'd probably prefer it to just sitting around, right?" she explained, cautiously.
She got bored sitting with just her books, and just her wits. She'd rather do worksheets like these, no matter how monotonous Luke thought they were, than spend another day pacing around a house that wasn't hers, too afraid to fiddle with belongings that weren't hers either. That was why she had followed the Professor and Luke onto the Molentary Express, wasn't it? But after getting locked in a barn for a day (Possibly longer, but she wouldn't know) with probably even less to do, she wasn't really sure that had turned out for the better.
"Do you..." he shook his head, "I just mean, is that what it's like for you, Flora? I'd always assumed you had plenty to do around here, 'cause you never said anything, but..."
"I read, mostly," she shrugged, "Sometimes I sew, but there's only so much of the same things you can do before it gets dull, you know?"
People were strange in how they wildly swung about how they understood you, too. Luke, and presumably the Professor too, had not noticed at all that she might have been bored or lonely or anxious by herself so much, but then all it took for one of them to catch on was a vague question. It felt contradictory.
"Oh," the boy's shoulders shrunk inwards, "I hadn't thought of it like that..."
"That's alright," uncertainly, she found herself saying, "I think it can be quite hard to tell how others are feeling, sometimes,"
His face twisted a little, "You can say that again..." he muttered quietly, before shaking himself out of it and looking directly up at her, "So, in the barn in Dropstone..."
She tensed slightly, "What about it?"
Luke began to swing his legs uncomfortably under the table. She got the impression that he wasn't particularly sure on how to proceed with wherever he was going with this. Something about that, though so entwined with what she found difficult to adjust to about being in London over St. Mystere, was rather charming.
"Well, I don't particularly recall us ever actually speaking much about it, and... You know, whilst we were talking about how we- you're feeling and whatnot... I just..." he struggled, "It made me think, and I suppose we really should owe you another apology, Flora,"
She nodded, slowly, "That's... It's alright, really. You couldn't have known,"
"Not about you being replaced, no," Luke squirmed, "But we- I mean, we knew you were gone for hours before we headed back... There were surely ways we could have tried to get a hold of you, but we just-" he stopped himself with a frustrated huff.
"Probably," simply, she agreed.
Being locked in that barn had been horrible: there was no point in denying it. She'd spent years lonely in her tower, missing the parts of her family that weren't built from scraps of metal, only to suddenly find herself back in that very situation without so much as a single person to check up on her, even after she made it out of St. Mystere.
And that wasn't even mentioning how unnerving it was to her specifically to think of Don Paolo impersonating her. It wasn't the disguise; no, it couldn't be, not when she herself had actively tried to disguise herself in front of the Professor and Luke twice. It was specifically how he had pretended to be her. There was something deeply unsettling to Flora at the thought of someone perfectly able to replicate another after everything she'd seen with Lady Dahlia. She knew some of that then came from childhood fear, but she also knew that it had gotten worse recently. A fear of truly being replaced, perhaps? She couldn't be sure.
Luke winced, "Right. Yeah... I think we just don't know how to stop once we're in the throes of an investigation, to be honest,"
There. That was familiarity. Just like when they'd come to her sleepy little town, the Professor and Luke weren't able to give up just because they should. She'd warned them then to stop, and they hadn't listened, and they'd gotten a caution this time in the form of her absence, but hadn't taken note of it then, either. Curious, really, how the two of them could be so wildly unpredictable compared to what she knew, but strangely rigid and routined compared to other humans.
"I understand," slightly, she nodded.
"You do...?" cautiously, the boy blinked.
"To an extent. That's just how the two of you are, I think," she offered up a smile, "And I'm fine with that, really - in fact, I'd say I rather admire it at times, but I just need you to try and understand me a little better in return,"
He looked at her urgently, "Need us to get what, then?"
She paused, feeling the urge to shrink in a little bit even now that she really did have her friend's whole and undivided attention, "I don't want to be on my own again, Luke. I... I really don't want to just be the Golden Apple up in the tower anymore,"
Flora noticed her hand was resting on her collarbone, just over her birthmark, when she finished. It was some kind of subconscious reaction, clearly. She wondered distantly when she'd developed it.
"Oh, okay," Luke's smile was simple, not as much of a big deal to him as it would have been to her, as he scooted his chair over to be sidled up to next to hers, "I know it'd be unreasonable for me to promise nothing like this will ever happen again, but you won't really be alone, again, Flora. Now that I can assure you of!"
She wiped at the corner of her eye with the puffy cuff of her sleeve, just in case. Luke grimaced sympathetically when he noticed and fished something out of his pocket.
"Handkerchief?" he offered.
She brushed him off, "No, no, I'm fine, really. Just... Happy to hear it. I was worried I'd sound silly..."
Saying it out loud like that had sounded silly, at least to her. She was Flora Reinhold, heir to a baron's fortune, the princess and damsel locked at the top of a tower, waiting to be rescued and then passed along to whoever worthy came along; surely it was silly for her to want to be the hero in her story, especially after she'd made such little effort before.
"Not at all!" hurriedly, Luke assured her, "You're plenty cool already, Flora!"
"Really?" she fiddled with the hem of her dress disbelievingly.
He was just saying that, right? Surely! She was upset, so he was responding with what she wanted to hear.
"Oh, yeah! I mean, you managed to follow us around St. Mystere and the Moletary Express for a while without us noticing, you actually noticed that Don Paolo was stalking us that day before we went to the park, and you managed to make it out of a crumbling tower unscathed!"
But that wasn't how Luke, or any of the people here, really, operated. He wasn't a robot; he wouldn't just respond with what he was programmed to when he recieved the input that she needed comfort.
He was animated as he talked, too. Not that the villagers of St. Mystere hadn't been lively in their own ways, but Luke's little hand gestures and bright eyes as he spoke really sold his act in a way she wasn't sure she'd ever really seen from the people back ho- back in the village. He was saying all this because he believed in it, so there was real, genuine passion behind his words.
"That last one was the Professor, really, not me," shyly, she argued, "All I did was follow him out,"
"That's still pretty brave, really. I mean, your home was being destroyed, and I know how difficult it can be to act when you're that scared..." he shot back, "But fine, you want another example?"
Flora giggled, "Mm-hm, go ahead,"
"Well, though they could use a little work, your disguises have been pretty solid for someone untrained! You fooled both me and the Professor twice! They're far from perfect, but-" Luke continued.
She groaned, and pinched the side of her head, "It was the sunglasses this time, wasn't it? I thought they were a bit on the nose, really, but I was worried you'd immediately recognise my eyes if I didn't have them,"
"Maybe you could try contacts next time?" with the confidence of someone who had precisely no idea what he was talking about, but was happy to try and help anyway, her friend suggested.
She huffed out a small laugh, "Maybe. I don't know where I'd get them from, though,"
"Same place where Don Paolo gets his stuff from, I guess," he shrugged, before scrunching up his nose, "I really do wonder where that is, though... I mean, you saw his Flora mask! Ridiculously realistic..."
Nope, not going there... Seeing her own face reflected emptily back at her really should have been a close-to-scarring experience. She could see the inherent humour in it, but all the same... Put it this way, if she were to continue down the route of disguises in any way, she was certain they would be unique, and not just impersonations of others.
"Some questions are best left unanswered, I think," gravely, she declared.
In truth, she was pretty sure they had to be of his own craft. As someone who dabbled in those kinds of creative arts herself, Flora could tell when something like this was an original design. Though, really, she wasn't sure the image of Don Paolo crafting a disguise to perfectly replicate her was much better than the thought of some shop just having the perfect parts he needed to pull it off that way.
"You know, you might be right there..." Luke agreed grimly.
"You'd doubt me?" lightly, she asked.
"Uh-! Not like that per se, but we're not all always right, you know? Not even the Professor! So it's not too inconceivable that you could be wrong! Heh-" a tad flabbergasted, he floundered.
Just then, a key clicked in the lock on the front door again, and after a short moment, the Professor strode smoothly in. He raised an eyebrow in a slight manner when he saw the two of them sat together, and approached.
"Not slandering me, I hope, Luke," warmly, he teased, having apparently overheard the last part of their conversation.
"H-Hey, Professor!" the boy blanched and all but squeaked.
"He was just telling me about it's okay to be wrong, because even you're wrong sometimes," she put a finger to her chin, "It's strange, though, he could have used himself as an example, but he didn't..."
"Wha- Flora!" outraged, Luke cried.
Still seeming very scandalised, he gathered up his things off of the table and stomped off to find his bag, muttering something to himself as he did so. Layton watched him fondly as he did so. He didn't look at her like that. But he was human, a person made of flesh and feelings, so that was subject to change, really.
"Did I walk in on anything terribly important, my dear?" after a beat, he asked.
She froze. Having that conversation with Luke had been one thing, but having it with the Professor would be another entirely... Perhaps it was because Luke was younger than her, or even just because he was a little bit rougher around the edges when it came to being a so-called true gentleman, but Flora thought he was a tad more approachable about this kind of thing compared to her guardian.
"Not particularly," she answered vaguely, "Just... A few silly bits. He was telling me about his homework,"
The Professor nodded, seeming, by some miracle, to take that at face value. He then waited stoically at the table's edge until Luke skipped back in, bag now slung back around his shoulder, and shoes laced up neatly.
"Now, Luke, a true gentleman wouldn't walk out like that," gently, he chided upon his apprentice's arrival.
Luke flushed, but he seemed considerably less embarrassed this time than he usually did when Flora had seen him be called out on some of his more spontaneous behaviour. Another odd quirk of having a human brain over a circuit board, she supposed.
"Hah... Right, sorry, Professor," meekly, but still rather easily, he apologised.
"That's quite alright, my boy," Layton nodded, "Now, are you ready to go?"
"Of course!" energetically, he answered.
Flora looked between them. What? This was what Luke had meant earlier when he'd asked where the Professor was? Oh, but she should have seen this coming, shouldn't she... Her guardian hadn't so much as taken his shoes off upon entering the apartment, so of course he was heading straight back out...And it was like Luke had said: he couldn't promise that nothing like the Dropstone trip would happen again. He couldn't promise that they wouldn't leave her behind again.
"Wait-! Go where?" she blurted, before she could stop herself.
She couldn't help it, really. She'd been alone with her thoughts all day, all week, really, and she didn't want to just let them sneak past her again.
The Professor stared at her, concern written between the lines on his face, "I promised Luke earlier that I'd take him to the museum for inspiration for a school project of his," evenly, he responded.
"Oh, right," disappointedly, she nodded.
Luke's eyes widened at her expression, and he began to tug on Layton's sleeve, "Hold on, Professor, can Flora come too?"
Her guardian blinked, caught off guard, "Of course, Luke, but you'd best check that she actually wants to first,"
The boy crossed his arms and sent his gaze her way, silently prompting her to reply in lieu of actually asking himself.
"I'd love to!" she stammered out, "If you'd have me,"
Was this...? Was this one of the some days, then? But it hadn't seemed to be earlier... Though, then again, she had spent much of today waxing eloquent to herself about the variable, ebbing and flowing, streaming and trickling, nature of humans? They could change; of course they could.
"Naturally, Flora, dear, it just simply hadn't occurred to me that you might be interested," blankly, but it was hardly noticeable, for he carried it off rather smoothly, the Professor explained.
Just like Luke, then. The two of them really were just two birds of a feather, in that way. Perhaps that was the real reason they'd had trouble accepting her into their little circle.
"Can I go and pack a bag quickly, first?" anxiously, she affirmed.
Layton tipped his hat and nodded, "Take all the time you need,"
"But not too long!" Luke corrected, "We haven't got all day, here!"
Flora giggled as she padded hurriedly out of the room, a strong sense of euphoria kicking in that left her wanting to click her heels excitedly. She could do this! It was just like when she'd chased them to the Molentary Express, except there were considerably lower stakes here.
Back in her room, she grabbed a few cursory items that she might need, before dashing practically madly back out towards the front room, where indeed, her companions were still waiting for her. They hadn't left her. This time was different.
"Alright, I'm ready," she announced, declaring her presence rather firmly.
Luke grinned and made immediately for the door, whilst the Professor hung back for a moment and offered her his arm. She brushed him off, for as sweet of a gesture as it was, it was also a tad archaic; it wasn't as if she couldn't walk herself to the car. Layton understood her well enough, though, and simply moved on, chasing slowly after his apprentice.
It was once they were on the busy London roads, Flora admiring the views of pretty little houses and all kinds of the strangest people speed by as they chugged along in her guardian's quaint vehicle, that the gravity of just quite what this little trip could mean for her sunk in. The car stopped at some traffic lights, and she caught Layton making eye contact with her in the front mirror.
"If it turns out that you enjoy this sort of thing, perhaps you could come along for more of these sorts of excursions," semi-casually, he mentioned.
She looked up in a kind of pleased shock, "You do this often?"
The car started up, so Layton's eyes were back on the road, now, but Luke made up for it by swivelling around on his seat so that he was peering around the edge of it, "Oh, yeah! The Professor's celebrity status gets us into all kinds of weird places!"
"Now, Luke, I wouldn't go that far..." sheepishly, the man backpedalled.
The boy rolled his eyes and gave Flora a rather meaningful look. She took that to mean that the Professor was just underselling himself for the sake of being humble, and that, yes, he really could get them into some odd locations. How exciting!
"That sounds wonderful, then!" eagerly, she smiled.
Luke swung himself back around to the front of his seat with a satisfying thunk, and she could see in the mirror that he was grinning at that, "Great! We'll let you know if we're planning anything you might be interested in, then,"
Well, not perfect, then, but they were getting there. They would get there.
"I'd like that," gently, she agreed.
Because that was the inherent value of living with people of flesh and non-artificial thoughts, ones who could make decisions and change them, ones whose responses could vary not just from moment to moment, but greatly over time. And Flora was one of them, so she'd at least like to give it a try working with them through all of this.
So, once again, they would get there.