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Venigni was, in Eugenie’s humble opinion, not a quiet man by any means. Whether it was a laugh, a murmur, or casually conversing with the residents of the hotel, it was nearly impossible to not hear him. Especially so when Pinocchio came to visit. Because if the Prince wasn’t conversing about a cipher or the latest legion arm, then it was definitely Venigni and the lantern placed on Pinocchio’s hip, Gemini that were conversing.
Either way, despite it being grim conversations about the status of Krat, it was those conversations that brought levity to the hotel.
Even Pinocchio looked to be more and more lively with each visit… if not more and more exhausted.
But this one had something of a bell ringing loudly in the back of Eugenie’s mind as she watched the two men across the hall talk in hush whispers. It started with Pinocchio coming in, looking rather upset and gripping tightly what she figured was a cipher. He spoke with her for a little, coming back with the resolution of her mystery in regards to her savior, Alidoro, and then went across the room to speak to Venigni who, beaming as always, happily took the cipher and quickly clacked away on that forearm gadget of his until the cipher was solved. Normal as usual (or about as normal as it could be, all else considered).
But when the puppet read the deciphered letter, briefly glanced over his shoulder to her before looking away and handing it over to him, Venigni inadvertently skimmed it, and the usually grinning man’s winning smile started to falter, the bells within her began to ring.
It rang so loud when Venigni, after watching Pinocchio exit hastily, looked at Eugenie with what she recognized all too well: sympathy.
“What was that about?” She asked bluntly. “Did something happen?”
“Ah, no clue.” Venigni shrugged, folding the document and shoving it into his ornate red coat pocket.
“You just read it though.”
“Skimmed.”
“Venigni.”
“Miss Eugenie.” He gave that infamous smirk of his. “Best let lying dogs lay, eh?”
She saw in rapid succession that smirk slip, a forehead slap, and him then mumbling something about grabbing a snack from the hotel… despite it looking like a hellhole at the moment.
The bells would not stop ringing.
—
Try as she might, she could not let that conversation go. She couldn’t. It was about her, that much she was certain but for the life of her she couldn’t exactly prove it.
Well, she thought, perhaps she could. But saying ‘it’s based on my gut instinct’ felt both like an insult to her intellect and a one-way ticket to being laughed at by the one guy who based his entire career and life making dreams (or nightmares as things currently stand) into reality.
Eugenie can already hear and see how he’d behave: First, he would laugh it off, pretending whatever bells are ringing aren’t. Second, he would throw some Italian terms of endearment as a way to dissuade her from pressing on the matter. And thirdly, annoyingly, he will place a hand on her, pat her shoulder, and start to joke about creating something to help silence the bells… before contemplating about making that very joke into a reality.
Perhaps she didn’t know him personally for long, but the man was almost too easy to read and predict.
He stood at his side of the room, going over and trying to figure a new legion arm for Pinocchio. It was rather interesting to see when he wasn’t conversing with people, he spoke (muttered, more like) entirely in Italian… probably easier to think like that too, Eugenie thought.
Eugenie couldn’t help but then wonder how he can be so… obtuse about everything. How he can just nonchalantly work after potentially having some information on her.
If it was on her, her thoughts countered. It could very well be something else, something simple. Could be that he and Pinocchio just genuinely cared about her.
But, she then thought, if that was the case, then why the secrecy? Why did Pinocchio bolt out of there as though he was guilty? Which now raised further questions: how can he feel that when he’s a puppet? Was his Ego awakened like Pulcinella and Polendina?
Another question in the mountains of questions.
Instead, she sat there. The weapons lay untouched before her as she stared the Prince of High Society down intensely. As though her gaze could pierce through and snatch away the answer, much like that one legion arm Pinocchio tends to sport. Oh, what she would give to be able to pull such a feat. To just… grab the words from someone without all of this terrible and uncoordinated song and dance.
“If you keep staring at me like this, mia cara, I’m going to start to feel self-conscious.” Venigni awkwardly joked.
Her cheeks felt slightly flushed but quickly she regained her resolve.
“I’d think you would be used to this sort of thing.” Eugenie countered. “What with being in the center of all of Krat.”
“Former center. At least, for my own peace of mind, I hope so. Under normal and less world-ending circumstances, you’d otherwise be correct.” He adjusted his own glasses. “However, considering none of this is normal and my creations are the cause of the circumstances, I’d rather not have all eyes on me at the moment.”
“Was… the message about you?” She asked slowly.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” He shifted his head away.
Eugenie tilted her head just ever so and looked to the side. Away from Venigni. Something about his tone chimed another bell, but it was dull compared to the ones still ringing over the deciphered message. And stare all she wants, she realized she inadvertently hardened his own resolve to stay quiet.
—
If she kept staring like this, Venigni was more than positive he was going to feel a hole in the side of his head.
Eugenie wasn’t wrong. He normally loved the attention and gaze of the masses. When eyes were on him, he didn’t feel so terribly alone. When eyes were on him, he wasn’t left with the gaze of one sadistic and murderous puppet that lurked in the shadows.
But with Krat having fallen and all eyes, should they be alive, wanting his head… suddenly the idea of eyes on him ran a shiver up Venigni’s spine.
Especially when they were cold and judgemental and trying to get past his flesh and blood and to his very soul like one particular weapon technician was doing at the moment. He was so nearly certain that he managed to dissuade her, to get her to focus on something else. And when he hoped that Pinocchio could do that, he noticed the boy grab some supplies before booking it as quickly as he could. Not even a quick wave.
(Though he did let out a scoff from Gemini’s ‘hi bye’ comments.)
Right now, if the ever digging feeling in his skull was indicative of anything, Eugienie was currently staring his way. Her eyes were so strong… he didn’t even need to look up to know what she was doing. Hell, if he could, he would make a legion arm out of that as well. The stare of a thousand daggers, he would call it.
And right now, he valued whatever nerves he had left within him, he would not look her way. Even if it goes against everything he used to do, he was not going to stare back at a woman.
He glanced up and met the cold stare of Eugenie.
She sat there at her desk with her hands folded over her lap, the lights of the lantern reflecting her glasses. Not a smile or a scowl graced her lips as she stared him down and for once Venigni wanted to flee a woman instead of trying to flirt.
“You’re hiding something.” Eugenie eventually broke the silence, her face void of any expression to his discomfort.
“Straight to the chase, eh?” He attempted a pitiful chuckle.
“One of us has to. And I think, for the betterment of the situation, you tell me what it is you are hiding.”
“I… I’m not sure if it’s my place to share.” Venigni pursed his lips, fidgeting slightly with his hands.
“I know it’s about me.” She stated as a fact as she stood from her desk.
“La mi– Eugenie… I don’t–”
“Please. Just tell me. What was it? What was it that you and he deciphered?” Eugenie walked over to him in a few quick steps, forcing him to, in turn, stumble back until his hips hit the table as she stood just at his toes, leaning dangerously close. “Tell me.”
For someone so small, she was fierce, he thought.
“Venigni, I know you know.”
He didn’t want to divulge, not because she didn’t deserve it, she did.
“I don’t–”
“Tell me.”
She more than deserved it, but he didn’t want to tell her because he didn’t…
“Venigni!”
He didn’t.
“I-I don’t want to see you hurt!” He spilled.
“So it is about me.” Eugenie confirmed for him. “It’s about me, and you’re not sharing and you think that doesn’t hurt?”
“I…” what can he say? She was right, she called him out, and now Pinocchio was nowhere within the vicinity to help take at least most of the blow. But wasn’t it his responsibility? Of course it was. Just like all of what was happening was.
His designs and inventions that were supposed to help hurt nearly everyone.
And once again, his designs and inventions were hurting someone.
“That’s all I seem to be good at…” he scoffed. “Very well. But, please, a seat?”
—
Eugenie held the parchment, having re-read it easily a dozen times over. She didn’t know how to feel. Rather, she felt too much of everything all at once. It was already overwhelming to learn from Pinocchio that ‘Alidoro’ wasn’t the real one and reading in her hands a message from the real Alidoro, but to learn that the real one, the one who saved her, the one she felt truly and deeply indebted to was her brother…
A brother who fought valiantly and did everything he could to protect her… only to meet the most pathetic end at the hands of someone he thought was a friend.
“Pinocchio… he didn’t know how to break the news.” Venigni continued to explain. “Not after apparently telling you what he did. If I were to wage a couple of Ergo on the matter, I’d guess he was ashamed he didn’t wait. Or perhaps… he was trying to protect. It’s ah… it’s hard to say with him… puppets and egos and such, heh…”
He cleared his throat awkwardly as she remained quiet, re-reading the few words over and over and over and over again. He could see her eyes zipping back and forth as she re-read it, happy to have sent Pulcinella to go grab some tea in the time being, leaving the two alone with a quiet, lyric-less song echoing throughout the hotel.
“If it helps, because I am not one to leave a lady such as yourself distraught,” despite being the direct cause of it, “I do believe he would have told you had he spoken to me prior to you.”
How does that help, he internally scolded himself.
“Perhaps…” Eugenie emptily answered, folding the paper away. “I… appreciate you finally sharing this.”
“In your defense, I should not have kept it hidden from you.”
“Correct.” A pause. “But I understand why you did what you did. A little.”
“You… you do?”
“I…” She tried, really.
She tried subtly to wipe the stray tears, to silence any sniffling or hiccups but failed as the tears wouldn’t stop, muting her words. Occasionally, he would catch her murmuring an ‘I’m sorry’ and a ‘come on’ from her, but he for once chose to keep his mouth quiet, to not bring even more focus on her despite it being about, well, her.
Venigni patted his pockets until he remembered his handkerchief in his coat pocket and swiftly handed it to Eugenie, a slight relief of a sigh escaped him when she took it without question.
“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, wiping the tears with it, “I shouldn’t be– it’s not like… not like no one had something tragic happen to them. It’s so… I shouldn’t…”
“No, no… don’t apologize.” He spoke in a soft tone, hesitant to place a hand on her shoulder. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me, mia cara. I-I should have told you sooner but… I wasn’t sure if he told you or wanted to tell you himself. I should have told him to tell you– No. I should have been the one to tell you then and–”
His words, shockingly, halted in his throat when he felt her rest her head into his chest, still sniffling, shoulders still shaking.
He was used to seeing women cry, used to being the cause of it. It pained him each time, but being the face of High Society, he could only offer an apology, some condolence flowers, and go about his day.
Here, he was seeing a woman cry, being once more the cause of it, and this time… the pain felt like an acidic dagger in his chest. There was no one to impress, no High Society to schmooze and mingle with, nothing.
There was, however, someone who needed support. Now more than ever.
Slowly, cautiously, he wrapped his arms around her and let her stay in the hug, bracing himself for her to shove him away like an unwanted blanket and prepared to reprimand him as he deserved. Instead, he felt her hands tightening on his shirt, almost hunching herself to some degree as he felt what was undoubtedly tears starting to soak through his shirt. Well, he thought, if she wasn’t fighting, wasn’t pushing… a hug never hurt anyone.
—
The hotel was quiet as after the reveal, Eugenie quietly spoke of how she needed to get some air. To get her thoughts in order. He couldn’t fault her, but he also couldn’t let her go out without some warmth and insisted she had his coat.
“After all, it would be rather ungentlemanly to let someone such as yourself in the cold.” He attempted to bring levity.
“That? Not letting me out to potential murderous puppets?”
“Oh–”
She shook her head, but there was a hint of a smile. And that, plus her not arguing to take his coat, had him relax just a little.
…Even if he did as Pulcinella to keep an eye on her.
His feet were propped up on the table, idly rotating against the dim light of his lantern an old cipher that had long since been solved as he slouched rather uncharacteristically in his seat. So many thoughts plagued him that sleep felt absolutely nonexistent. Mix that with his usual night terrors he gets when he closes his eyes, well…
It was going to be another late night for Lorenzini Venigni.
He sighed and wondered after everything that has happened, after the dust hopefully settles with Pinocchio’s potential success… could Krat be restored?
It was a question that gnawed at the back of his mind even before Eugenie broke in front of him, that it stood to reason that, perhaps, Krat could be restored. Could be saved. But with the ways that the puppets are still on a rampage, that there was still an influx of infected Carcasses out there, the deafening silence and borderline brutality of whatever human was left, throughout the course of this morbid adventure… It wasn’t an answer Venigni liked.
And as much as he would love to save his name, it seemed as unlikely as bringing life back to Krat.
What’s worse, was that he knew that Eugenie now shared the same sentiment. No matter how much upgrades, variety, and latest creations of weapons the specialist can give to Pinocchio, it wasn’t much of a solution to keep fighting endlessly in hopes of a maybe.
Especially with that finishing damning blow he just inflicted on her about her savior - her brother, being long dead.
Venigni sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, shifting his glasses upward and awkwardly. “Dio mio, Lorenzini. How much of an idiot can you be?” He grumbled.
He glanced around the room, hearing the gentle hum of the central star gazer and feeling the slight chill from the outside.
“A pretty massive one for leaving a woman out there in the cold, sei un idiota.”
Chucking the cipher to the side, he briskly walked up the flight of stairs, turning down the hall towards where the golden tree resided. And just in front, swimming in his pinstripe red coat, was Eugenie, paying no heed to his echoing footsteps on the hotel’s marbled floor and Pulcinella standing just ever so slightly back to undoubtedly give Eugenie some much needed space.
He walked cautiously through the open hallway till he stood next to Pulcinella, wondering how long she was standing there and staring at the glistening tree. To Venigni’s surprise, Pulcinella merely bowed his head before leaving, letting the two human residents be alone.
Ah, he thought, Pulcinella must have gotten wind of his spiralling internal beratement. Magnifico.
Carefully, he walked on the grass, trying to ignore the biting chill that was piercing through his shirt. “I never realized how much that coat was a shield against these inhumane conditions.” He greeted, startling Eugenie out of her trance.
“It’s definitely something.” Eugenie answered, her nose still red through the magical combination of tears and chills. “Could do without the smell of cologne and oil, frankly.”
“What can I say? It’s my charm.” He flashed a smile, dropping it slightly as she rolled her eyes.
Eugenie began to take off the coat before Venigni quickly placed his hands on her shoulders, refraining from removing the clothing. “No no, I insist, keep that on. It’s cold tonight.”
“But you’ll be cold too.”
“Bah, I’ve been through worse. It involved some rope, a late night drink and–” He looked as she stared unamused and he then quickly brushed it off, folding his arms to keep as much of his warmth as he could. “Ah, a story for another time. Besides, I can ask Pulcinella to heat me with both a bath and tea. Think nothing of it, mia cara.”
“Hm. If you say so.” She adjusted the comedically large coat on herself.
The two stood there in silence, watching the golden fruits shine, enjoying for a moment a brief and incredibly rare tranquility in Krat. It was a long day. A very long and painful day, but at least there were almost no more secrets to keep. Almost.
“Venigni?” She rubbed her arms.
“Yes, my dear?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hm? For what?” He looked at her, arms still crossed.
“For pressuring you to spill.” Eugenie apologized. “As though you don’t have enough pressure on your shoulders.”
“Ah, well, I believe the various holes in the side of my head will heal with due time.” He chuckled. “But… I appreciate the apology. And I wholeheartedly accept it. I just ask for forgiveness for withholding the information, amongst other things.”
“Other things?”
Venigi gave a brief gesture to their surroundings, gesturing undoubtedly to Krat.
“...You mean all of this?”
“What else?” His smile strained. “It was… my fault, after all. You weren’t the only one affected by a deciphered message.”
She felt the letter in her pocket. “You too?”
Venigni nodded. “The cause of the Puppet Frenzy, part of why Pinocchio evaded you, he… had me decipher another message. One from the King of Puppets, no less.”
“What did it say– oh. Wait. No, I shouldn’t–”
“Mm, never apologize, la mia amica.” He gave a small smile. A small, pained, smile. “But, if you must know, and I know you do, the King of Puppet had revealed to Pinocchio - and by extension, myself - who caused the whole Puppet Frenzy.”
“And who was it?”
His smile looked too strained, too forced. Too painful. He scoffed and stared at the tree instead.
“...Geppetto.”
Her eyes widened in shock, words being unable to be found or said.
“Basically, all of this is… my doing. All of it. The Grand Covenant I had implemented in these puppets was meant as a detriment from them going rogue. It was something I worked with Geppetto over as a team. But it was turned to something vile. Polluted. He did something to corrupt it. So while not by my hand, the Puppet Frenzy was still something of mine. Just like most of Krat. I wish I could say it’s not, and yet there’s no avoiding it.”
Eugenie glanced at Venigni, seeing how the tree reflected off of his glasses. It was a long thought she had, about how he didn’t want to hurt her, how he took accountability over her brother’s letter… even offering her his coat so that if she must be alone in her thoughts, to at least bundle up. Lorenzini Venigni was known to be something of an egotistic playboy in all of Krat. His face is literally plastered everywhere, one would have to have such an enormous ego to do as such, and yet…
“Ridicuous, isn’t it?” He let out a bitter scoff. “The one thing I held on to like a devout believer after the worst tragedy of my life, and I inflicted it on everyone inadvertently. Because I trusted someone and ended up with a bigger target to the head.”
The man that held her, the one that apologized, the one that kept her feelings, literal and emotional, in mind, standing next to her gave no air of the aforementioned descriptions. He didn’t feel like the same person who essentially shattered Krat.
“Worst tragedy?” She asked quietly.
“The birth of the Grand Covenant. Watching the horror before my eyes as a puppet went on a blood thirsty carnage with my parents as one of its latest fascination. I was… just a boy then. Watched in horror as it murdered and ruined….” his lips quivered for only a moment but he soon shook his head. “That’s… a topic for another time. The chill, it does not help. Another time, perhaps?”
Eugenie nodded in understanding, not wanting to digress from the topic at hand. But one thing she could say was that there was more to him than meets the eye, it seemed. And it also seemed the Grand Covenant’s sourced history was a topic he was not exactly ashamed about.
“So, between finding out my savior is not only dead but my brother and you finding out that something you created with someone you trusted ruined Krat… it’s a terrible night for deciphers.” She attempted to lighten the mood.
“That, my dear, is the greatest understatement in all of Krat.” He choked a laugh, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Yes, well, in your defense,” Eugenie echoed from hours ago, “in regards to what you’ve learned, you didn’t know. You didn’t exactly plan a puppet frenzy intentionally…”
“Much like you didn’t know your brother was the one who saved you and you have been thanking his killer.” He finally looked at her again. “What a terrible duo of a mess we are, eh, mia cara?”
“Just the worst.” She sniffled, but there was a smile. “We should scold Pinocchio for doing that.”
“Scold?”
“For not taking it to the chin with how we feel. But… I suppose we should also thank–” she let out a sneeze, her glasses falling to the tip of her nose. She shuffled for the handkerchief that also belonged to Venigni but instead felt him put an arm around her, moving his hands in an attempt to make friction.
It was awkward, to say the least, but she welcomed the warmth as she leaned into the hold.
“Si, I agree, we should thank and scold him. But, perhaps after some tea and warming up.” Venigni smiled sincerely. “Or a hard liquor. I have a fantastic bottle. Vintage, I should add and shockingly untouched.”
“That doesn’t sound all too bad.” She returned the smile.