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It first happened shortly after the puppet left Hotel Krat.
His greatsword rested over his shoulder as he traversed the city, gentle footsteps silent on long since wrecked pavement. By design, he had to be quiet, or so he’d heard from Gemini’s incessant chirping. It all faded into the background as he trooped forward, preparing to cut forward past the inevitably decaying puppet husks ahead. A racket from the inside of the lamp Gemini resided in caught him off guard, both hands tightening around the hilt as his gaze turned downward. A cacophony of chirps met his attention.
“Hey, hey! That big guy you just fought – I hear him! In your bag! I mean, uh, don’t put him in here, he’s… still kind of scary. But! I think he wants to talk to you!” The lamp gave a few more insistent shakes, Gemini’s way of beckoning the puppet to do what he wanted. Geppetto’s puppet said nothing – for he never did, and he wasn’t even positive he could – as he sat before the mild warmth of the Stargazer.
One hand fished into his bag, thumbing through various things he couldn’t see but could distinguish by texture. Throwables that buzzed with elemental charge waiting to burst, sharpening tools that might’ve cut his fingers were they flesh… ah. He’d kept the Ergo from the Parade Master inside a cloth pouch for safe keepings, and for a time it had settled nicely as most of the Ergo from the husks of past puppets did. Now, however, it buzzed under his fingers as though it were its own beast, a wild animal caged up. His fingers clamped around the clasp of the pouch with a minor struggle and he wrenched it out of his bag, holding it out like a caught mouse.
Monad’s lamp rustled against his hip as Gemini tried to look closer at the thrashing pouch of Ergo. A soft chirping came, almost thoughtful – if crickets could be thoughtful. The puppet ran a thumb over the body of the cloth and the Ergo responded with a slam against his palm, though he lacked any reaction. Gemini took care of the shock and surprise for him.
“Could a puppet’s Ego be… hm.” Geppetto’s puppet cast a glance downward at the lamp as Gemini spoke up. “Look, I’m not saying to let all that Ergo just go… but I am saying that it wouldn’t exactly hurt if we just tested it!”
Those words seemed to pacify the Ergo in the pouch. While the puppet didn’t have to obey Gemini in the slightest, he also saw little harm in doing what the cricket asked. Geppetto didn’t outline don’t do Ergo experiments in the boundaries of be a good boy, after all. With ever-meticulous fingers, the puppet opened up the drawstring bag.
There was a moment of pure quiet. Then, in a sudden burst of blue, the Ergo blew out of its containment. As it floated in the air, it almost resembled a blue Sun – if, of course, the Sun was smaller. Probably less bright, too, now that Geppetto’s puppet had gotten over the initial flash of blue light. Gemini’s chirpings grew frantic as the puppet stepped backward, dull eyes scanning the surrounding area.
Quiet again. Geppetto’s puppet tilted his head at the buzzing orb of Ergo, shifting his weight as he studied it expectantly. He started to reach out to it – perhaps to take it for himself, perhaps to prompt it to do something –
“So the festival continues!” Sparks of Ergo showered to the ground, reminiscent of the fire that festered inside the Parade Master. Geppetto’s puppet staggered back for a moment, readying his sword, though hesitated as nonexistent eyes focused on him. He could almost feel the Parade Master’s mask casting a shadow over him. His gears turned, warm and feeling something.
Was he supposed to be feeling? Hm.
“A silent child. The king loves those! Loved. Loves? Haha!” The Ergo sparked more aggressively, and the puppet shifted to harness it in one hand to try and calm it down. While it buzzed in his palm like an overheating compartment, it stopped its unhinged sparking and seemed to grow a bit saner in time. “They were patient, and they loooved the king, and, and– ah,” the Ergo swiveled around in the puppet’s palm, “where, ah, where am I? Pray tell, be so kind, small child–”
“Geppetto’s puppet isn’t a kid!” A pause. “Are you?”
The puppet only shrugged in response, crouching down and opening his palm. The bundle of Ergo turned around every which way as if it could see – and maybe it could. Maybe the life puppets had came from Ergo more so than any craft… not that Geppetto told him anything.
“Geppetto? Oh– ho! I should have known, certainly– ah, what a kook, is he not? But fathers are always like that, oh yes – angry or crazy, you pick and choose, don’t you…” Geppetto’s puppet tensed as much as his body allowed at those words. He glanced down at Gemini, who only gave a confused, soft chirp.
“I didn’t hear a thing,” he said, confirming the puppet’s suspicions. These bundles of Ergo had a certain… affinity, then, for hearing the thoughts of other puppets’ Ergo. Or… Egos? What was even the difference?
“Why would you ask a carnival master? I’ve never dabbled in those Alchemist abilities – so very curious, but father wasn’t, ah,” another pause, a shift in voice, “I don’t– have a father– boy, what do you call me?”
Parade Master. That’s all he was. Maybe Happy Charlie on a poster, but nobody particularly intended him to be much of anyone. That’s how puppets were.
“...Blast it,” murmured the Ergo, now settled albeit certainly discontented. “Suppose memories will get mixed up now and again–” Another tonal shift and the Ergo began its ranting again. “--but the show shall continue, and so long as one can lead, one will strive on!”
Geppetto’s puppet shot a glance down at Gemini, who was shifting uncomfortably inside Monad’s lamp. He met the puppet’s gaze as best he could, though Geppetto’s puppet could decipher nothing. The cons of his partner being a cricket, he supposed.
“I’ll, uh, explain more some other time. When he’s settled. Buuut… if you really wanna know, I think you might’ve started to awaken his Ego! You know what that is, right?”
The puppet shook his head.
“Oh.” An awkward pause. “Well! You’ll… find out! Sure.” And that was that. Geppetto’s puppet let out a groan – more of a wheezy creak of his servos, but it conveyed the message – and stood up again, coaxing the bundle of laughs and rambles in Ergo form into his coat pocket. A warmth settled against his hip as he did so. Was it the Ergo, or something else?
No matter. The puppet settled in for the long haul as the Parade Master’s shattered identity shouted up at him, commentating on every little thing. He couldn’t blame the entity – the Parade Master always seemed a bit more… enthusiastic of a puppet – but then again, he didn’t feel much of anything. It wasn’t part of the plan.
“Apathetic babies like you can be so drab! I ought to show you a real parade! That’d break a smile on even your sad little face!”
No parade was happening in this era.
“Not with that attitude, boy!”