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“Hey, Sophia? Can you spare a little more of your power?”
:Oh? What do you have in mind, exactly?:
“I just… need to go further back in time than usual. Possibly by few hours. I have something important I need to take care of, but I need as much time as you can manage in order to make this work. Do you think you could…?”
:Hmm, I believe I have enough power to spare... Yes, I think I can fulfill your request. But may I ask what it was you noticed? Have you found another way to alter the timeline?”
“…Sure. Let’s go with that.”
(Two hour earlier...)
"Lampwick, you absolute ass."
The thunderous voice reverberated through the Estella Opera House, completely catching the King of Puppets by surprise. He put down the stage props he had been preparing and turned towards the smaller Puppet currently storming furiously down the staircase towards him. When did Geppetto’s Puppet come in? Did any of his guard puppets even see him come in? He wasn’t supposed to be here yet! The play still needed to be set up so that he could convince–!
At the center of the room, the Puppet planted his saber in the floor and crossed his hands over the hilt. He looked up at the King, completely undaunted and with a fierce light in his eyes. “You. Get down here. Now. And not in that giant, bloody behemoth of a shell,” He snapped as the King took a lumbering step forward. “Get out of there and come talk to me. Face-to-face, like a sane person, for God’s sake!”
Oh. So Geppetto’s Puppet knew everything already, then. The King… had no idea how to even respond to that. He tilted his head, fumbling with his thoughts for a moment before gesturing helplessly to his throat and speaking static. He had thought that the communication barrier was a self-evident predicament, hence the need for his messengers (and the play, which he was admittedly disappointed he wouldn't be able to finish). And so, he was again surprised when the Puppet just scoffed in response.
The King watched on blankly as the Puppet reached for his bag and pulled out two small, innocuous items. “Seriously,” he sighed, waving the pencil and roll of paper with exaggerated exasperation, “I know you didn’t like reading all that much in school, but damn it, Lampwick, you could have just written me a letter.”
The King stared. The Puppet continued.
“If you had sent someone wielding a pen and paper instead of swords and flamethrowers, then I might have been more inclined to listen, you know.”
A full minute passed and the King did not move, leaving the Puppet wondering if he might have accidentally short-circuited. Eventually, ever-so-slowly, the seal on the giant machine’s torso cracked open. The Puppet shook his head.
“As always, you are an idiot,” he announced as the much smaller form of Romeo descended and drew closer. “A veritable, certifiable dumbass. The foremost expert on the art of absentmindedness. Did you know that? Need I continue?”
Romeo snatched the pencil from him, somehow managing to scowl even through his immobile metal face plate. He scribbled something briefly on the page, then all but shoved it back into the Puppet’s face.
The Puppet fumbled a bit and glanced down at the messy handwriting, then snickered despite himself.
F*** you, Carlo.