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For Whom Belle Speaks

Summary:

P rescues Belle from the Grand Exhibition then is told by Simon that his Ergo used to be a living person. After finding Atkinson for Belle, P reflects on what Simon meant and the confusing emotions surrounding Romeo.

Notes:

Consider this an addendum to To Be Loved, To Be Claimed. Since Belle/Atkinson doesn't have a tag, I'll have to input the tag after posting. People seem to have forgotten that Belle and Atkinson were a couple, including me. I just did her side quest again before realizing I skipped two relationships.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

When P was investigating the site of the canceled Grand Exhibition, he was astounded by the colossal hall made of marble and glass. He had taken a detour into the massive gallery, but still, he hadn't expected it to be as grand as the title had implied. Such titles tended to exaggerate. Gemini chirped in awe right behind him, from the new models of butler puppets to improved versions of Puppets of the Future. P had restored the Stargazer before unlocking the front doors to the stairs and streets that led back to the Lorenzini Arcade. The rain hadn't let up at all since…

“It hu-urts again,” P faltered. He raised a hand to the center of his chest.

“Need to sit for a bit?” Gemini asked him. “The Stargazer is right there.”

P shook his head. They didn't have time to relax, and if the Grand Exhibition was going to be anything like the places they had explored so far, it definitely wasn't safe. There was just something about seeing it all that had reminded him of a distant memory recently brought closer. He still had Romeo's Ergo in his possession, opting not to show it to Alidoro in exchange for something from his collection. He couldn't bring himself to do it because, like looking around at the Grand Exhibition or what would have been, a faded, obscured memory tugged on his sleeves. He had remembered what Julian had told him, the emotions of the music on Rosa Isabelle Street and meeting Adelina, and what Polendina had expressed in confidence to him. Perhaps he needed a moment to compose himself, yet they persisted. These feelings were instigated by Sophia's observation of the necklace from Romeo and Geppetto's hesitance to be happy at the sudden transformation. By no means had P fully changed into something else, but the prognosis of it left Geppetto whispering under his breath what to do now. He had directly told P that perhaps the change–his hair losing its doll-like appearance for human hair affected by gravity–was the result of being battered and beaten savagely by the King of Puppets. Yet, in his P-Organ that now strangely ached, the accusation seemed unfounded and only supported by some sort of unfair bias. If he spent too long trying to understand it now, he'd lose himself in a blackhole of existential questions. There were some odd things, and he didn't quite understand what those things were other than that there were answers to be uncovered deeper in the magnificent building.

All he did with these swirling thoughts was place a hand over his chest. He thought for a moment on the whisper of a name he both knew and didn't. That whisper was like a gentle breeze providing a passing phantom hug. Whosever voice it was, maybe he would be able to identify it when he learned more.

“We sho-ould get go-ing,” P finally decided.

“Alright, pal,” Gemini chirped. “But the second you start to feel like you're gonna lose your lunch, you just let me know! I, Gemini, your friendly neighborhood cricket guide puppet guide, will bring you right back to the Stargazer with my guiding light!”

P chuckled. “Yo-ou do remember tha-at Sophia ga-ave me her pocket watch, ri-ight?”

“C'mon, just let me have this!”

But the little smile that P managed to express was all Gemini needed to feel better. If he was more than just a little lamp clipped to his belt, he could have hugged him and swung him around in a joyful, peppy dance. Alas, he was only a little cricket puppet in the Monad Lamp.

P, which Gemini to guide his way, explored the Grand Exhibition. Venigni had mentioned that there was a distress signal coming from the place, yet no one living had appeared. Only puppets roamed, and a few scattered dead Carcass pieces. It was frightening for P despite his brave face; after the transformation, his senses had sharpened a bit. Before, he hadn't known what decaying bodies smell like. Now, ever so slightly, he caught a whiff of rotten meat soaking in vinegar, and it burned his nose. Mixed in with the fumes of used oil, the noxious odor just stayed with him.

He pressed on, keeping an eye and ear out for the person that sent the distress call while staying alert of any puppets that would attack him. The rain outside hit the glass roof of the hall hard. The sound of it got louder as he climbed up to the rafters or was near any exits. Eventually, he came to a spot where he heard a woman's voice.

“What is happening to Krat?” she said to herself.

“You hear that?” Gemini gasped.

“It sounded li-ike a re-al person!” P whispered back.

“We've got to find her before she gets hurt!”

P glanced around, spotting a ladder heading to the level down below. None of the puppets in the rafters had seen him yet, so he snuck over to it and slid down. The woman spoke again of her confusion about the puppets and the monsters. P rounded the corner, startling her. He put his hands up.

“Don't come any closer,” the woman warned him. She watched his face, surprised to see someone else in the hall with her. What was such a young man doing in a place like this? “Sorry, I just didn't expect to see anyone else around.”

“I'm he-ere to help,” P gently told her.

“Do you know what's going on here? Ugh, never mind. I have a different question: do you think you can clear this place out? If that beast Victor is taken care of, then I can get out safely.”

P nodded, unable to get a word in.

“Good. When he's out of the way, I…well, I don't know where I can go, but I'll at least be able to get out of here.”

P saw a chance to speak. He told her to go to Hotel Krat, as per Venigni's request to help people caught in the chaos in Krat. The woman gave a surly thanks then went back to trying to make a contingency plan if P were to be destroyed.

P continued on with his own investigation. He found that he wasn't the only one digging through the aftermath of the Puppet Frenzy in those decorated halls, though. While the puppets had succeeded in clearing out Carcasses that had broken in, there lie the inklings of another threat. P peeked into a doorway where a strange gangly man stood, his back turned to him. He had some sort of tank on his back, and to his side lay at rest a massive portable Gatling gun. The discovery had come after Arlecchino's latest riddle:

What is only useful after it breaks?

The answer had been an egg, despite unbroken eggs having their purpose. But seeing this new type of enemy, P started to realize that “egg” could have meant much more. The woman had expressed concern about a monster named Victor. What was the connection of “egg” to anything happening? It would only be revealed if he went even deeper into this dark abyss swallowing up the city. Putting all that aside, P finally committed to pushing forward the investigation. Poised with his weapon, he stepped quietly and slowly.

The gangly man spun around with his gun, firing a stream of bullets into P. A couple had pierced into his liner, but he managed to deflect the majority of them. As expertly as he could, he dodged away from a third stream of bullets, spinning with his blade in hand and slicing the man into a bloody mess. But this man's blood was blue like the Carcasses.

P had to take a moment to regain his bearings because something was different. Before, he didn't experience pain from fighting. It was only now, after his first change instigated by Sophia's remarks about the necklace found on Romeo, that he felt pain. He winced at the bullets that had made it through his realistic skin and to the liner protecting the insides of his body. Then again, most of the time, he only suffered beatings from puppets and scratches and claws from Carcasses.

“Ge-mi-ni…!” P whimpered. “Getting shot…hu-urts…”

“Aw, I'm sorry, pal,” Gemini could only say. “Let’s see if we can't find a Stargazer soon.”

The most P could do was use his Pulse Cells. He wanted to only use them when absolutely necessary; bullets, however, seemed to fit the requirements. Still, he pressed forward, finding more of these strange people with guns and knives in the latter half of the Grand Exhibition. Maybe they were looking for something, or maybe they were hunting down puppets to give to the upcoming monster Victor. Whatever the case, P did his best all the way until he confronted the Champion himself.


P had felled the giant monstrosity that was the Champion Victor. He didn't understand what he had just witnessed, but it was no longer human. That much he could definitively say. And a byproduct of whatever was done to Victor was that he wouldn't stay down. The titan stood looming over P, a shadow threaded with Ergo. He bellowed about his greatness, but so loud was his booming that he couldn’t hear himself think much less speak. But as suddenly as Victor's recovery despite P beating him down, a sword tore through his chest from behind.

P was frightened by the blade that looked like a monster's spine. And no sooner had it ripped through him that Victor crumbled before him. Behind him on the balcony of the conference room, a distinguished-looking man with blue hair in his cane and one blinded eye stood. An armored giant, more feminine in form but still just as muscular and tall as a wrestler, kneeled beside him.

P watched them from the floor sparking with cables. He tightened his grip on his weapon. There was some hope for Gemini to speak up with some sort of spunkiness, yet the cricket puppet remained silent. Despite not being able to breathe, P's voice trembled as he whimpered.

“What do you think our cure created in these halls?” the man had asked.

P paused. Whatever his cure had created, he had seen it everywhere, even in the seemingly regular men with their guns. This cure created by the Alchemists had created monsters. Despair.

And what was the opposite of despair?

“You cre-ated ho-ope for a cure,” P answered.

The man grinned down at him. Geppetto's Puppet was certainly a marvel, unbound from the Grand Covenant and capable of seeing farther and thinking deeper than the average mind. Even if he was lying, there was some appreciation for his answer.

“The Petrification Disease isn't something to fear. It does not end in death. It is the beginning of ascension, a new evolution. Why, the very Ergo you hold within you used to be a human being. Now, that soul has been reborn into an elevated version of themselves.”

P stared at him. The answer he had been searching for. Why had Romeo's Ergo instigated the change that it did? Why did that quiet, lonely, yearning whisper make his consciousness tremble? Why was he starting to feel pain? He didn't want to react to such a statement. If he put his hand over his heart, then this man who introduced himself as Simon Manus, the Leader of the Alchemists, would get the validation he craved.

But…if what he said was true, then…what of Romeo's Ergo dancing in his P-Organ? He knew him, and the flood of emotions felt after Sophia had shown him that small but significant truth only made it more clear. Was his real name Carlo?


Sophia had revealed a lot about Listeners and their purpose in the Alchemists’ experiments. She explained her power and how coveted it was. She told P about Simon Manus, the relationship among the Petrification Disease, the Puppet Frenzy, and Ergo, and how Simon's desire to create a cure had led Krat to ruin. When that man had said that P's Ergo used to be a human being, it became more clear what he meant by evolution. Still, as he lay quietly in a hotel room away from everyone, he couldn't agree that this was the way to do it.

What if this was some sort of artificial selection process? If P was really Carlo, and if his Ergo had been placed inside him for some purpose still unknown to him, did that mean he was worthy of second chances? But what about all the puppets he had destroyed? What about Romeo? Was he not deserving of a second chance and an authentic life thereafter?

“Gemini, my he-ad hu-urts…which a pup-pet's he-ad shouldn't hu-urt. But may-be I'm not a pup-pet? I don't know anymore…” P said.

“I bet you're thinking about that stuff Sophia said.” P nodded. “Well, why don't we go talk to that lady we rescued in the Grand Exhibition?”

P took Gemini's advice, heading down to the lobby to formally meet the abrasive woman. She had cleaned up a little bit now. She'd washed her face, but her uniform was still covered in blotches of dirt, oil, and blue blood. Offering them a smile, she greeted them:

“Sorry you had to see me like that,” she said. “I'm not usually so on edge, but…things are strange in Krat. I get the puppets, but the monsters? They don't make sense.”

“Yeah, it's re-ally we-ird,” P agreed.

“Sorry, I'm getting lost in my thoughts again. My name is Belle,” she finally introduced herself. She explained her origins. She and her partner had been assigned to investigate what had been happening in Krat as part of the Krat Militia. Along the way, they got separated, and she hadn't heard from him since. “To say I'm worried would be an understatement.”

P watched her with a certain innocence. “I can ke-ep an eye out fo-or your part-ner,” he offered.

But Belle wasn't listening again. She was thinking long and hard, trying to make sense of it.

Time passed, and P had asked Geppetto more about places outside of Krat. Simon had mentioned as well a place of interest called the Isle of Alchemists. The only way to get there was crossing the ocean, and Venigni had a vehicle that could do it. The only problem was that it required a special battery, and that special battery could only be manufactured from rare golden Ergo. Something about it was different, as if it were activated. P had gone to look for it in the Barren Swamp. That was where it became evident just how terrible what had been happening in Krat was. Mountains upon mountains of trashed puppets, with some of them still using the last remains of the Ergo installed into them. They were decaying and broken, and P couldn't help it. Krat, the city that he remembered loving, was a cesspool of darkness.

An earthquake had shaken the swamp not too long before he had found the golden Ergo in the belly of the monster that stalked the area. It had come from Krat Central Station, where he was woken up by Sophia's call. He made his trips back to Hotel Krat to deliver the golden Ergo to Venigni, but still yet, he had to investigate what had happened at the station. It was then that Belle called out to P.

“I've made contact with my partner there!” she told him. “If you're going there to investigate, then please, try to find him. His name is Atkinson. He's with the militia, like me.”

P agreed to her task with a small nod. He returned via the Stargazer to where the corpse of the swamp monster lay. He ventured into its nest and the winding paths that brought to a different side of the station. Carcasses stumbled and gurgled everywhere. P hesitated.

“Gemini…I-I'm sca-ared…” P said. He mimicked what Venigni had done when he first met P in the factory. Cowering, guarding his face, trying to disappear. “I wish some-one could ho-old my h-hand,” he trembled even more childlike.

“I'm sorry, pal,” Gemini solemnly told him. “If I had a body, I'd hold your hand. Maybe my light can make you feel better?”

He switched on the Monad Lamp. Gemini's warm light bathed him in gold. And among the raspy moans of the Carcasses, Carlo swore he heard the whisper again.

“Carlo…”

He looked around. His chest felt warmer than before. Placing his hand over his heart, he calmed down a little more. He sliced his way through the station. He was battered and broken, and every once in a while, he was forced to return to the hotel for repairs. Belle waited anxiously to hear what had become of Atkinson. As soon as he was fixed by Geppetto, he engaged with the monsters again. Finally, just before heading up to the platform that would get him inside the station lobby, he found another train car that was illuminated by a lone lamp inside. And a staggering shadow.

P peaked his head into the car, his weapon ready. This Carcass, however, was different. Human…barely. He clutched his head, whimpering.

“God…t-there…m-must be s-some…one who c-can h-help…p-please d-dear Lord…!” the Carcass pleaded.

“He can speak!” Gemini whispered.

“That me-eans he's hu-man…” P whispered back.

P entered the car, still with his weapon in hand but no longer raised for defense. The Carcass startled and spun around in a panic. Just like P, he cowered and feared for his life.

“P-Please…don't h-hurt me!” he cried. “I…am…a human…!”

P shook his head. “I'm not he-re to hu-urt you,” he calmly told him.

The Carcass lowered his guard. For a moment, he had clarity. He didn't move closer to the beautiful puppet, but he spoke to him as best as he could:

“Do you know what's happening? Krat…Krat's become a graveyard. And these monsters–like how I've become–walk around. They lurk in the shadows. Ngh!”

The Carcass grabbed his head.

“A-Are you At-kin-son?” P quickly asked him.

“Y-Yes…my name. That's it. Atkinson…but if you know my name…do you, by chance, know Belle? I haven't been able to reach her; my comms are shot…”

The pitiful Carcass whose eyes were bleeding blue like the ocean peered up at P. In his dessicated hands was a blood-stained letter addressed to Belle. Blue blood, just like his blue tears.

“I do,” P replied.

The Carcass relaxed. “P-Please…give her this. Tell her that I died as a human. As a soldier.”

P took the letter with its fanciful wax “A” and two dried lavender stems. When he handed him the letter, Atkinson–what was left of him–rested his hand on the puppet's hands. He squeezed, and for a moment, P saw the handsome man that Belle had worried about. Once he let him go, Atkinson gurgled and groaned and rasped. He ordered P to leave immediately before he completely lost control of himself. He even shoved him to get going for fear that not only would he attack him but that he would rightfully defend himself.


P returned to the hotel as soon as he could. Belle, deep in her thoughts, stood in her usual spot by the stairs. Her hard face didn't seem to be thinking about Atkinson. She muttered about what to do about the escalating situation in Krat. As P stepped into the periphery of her view, her expression only got harder.

“You're back,” she greeted. “You were taking so long, I started to worry.”

P looked up at her. She couldn't determine if he was human or puppet, but the sadness in his eyes definitely reflected what Sophia had been trying to cultivate in him all along. Although he couldn't cry, he mimicked the motions he had witnessed from Julian the Gentleman as he lamented the untimely death of his dearest Melody. He held out to her the letter that Atkinson had requested P to deliver. Belle hesitated.

“I'm a soldier, and we prefer directness,” she said, though her cadence betrayed that notion. “Give to me straight. Did you find him?”

P shook the letter to her. “He-e…died whi-ile fighting off pup-pets,” P lied to her. “He asked me-e to deliver this to you.”

Belle finally took the letter from him. With P present before her, she read aloud:

My dearest Belle,

I remember the day I met you through your father's friend Sir Loett. That day, the steam of Krat Central Station was thick on the platform, and a flock of birds was flying overhead, above the glass ceiling. There, I was waiting for you. When I saw a lady take one step down those stairs, I knew it was you. Your effervescent laughter left an impression on me.

The reason I'm writing this letter... Yes, I'm at the train station and it reminds me of you from that time. We were colleagues at first and then lovers, but I still can't let you go. The way you smiled and looked forward to the exhibition and festivals, those beautiful nights with the fireworks, I just can't let go.

So, if we are to survive and make it out of here, I plan to visit you with this letter. Please stay safe and wait for me until then.

Sincerely, Atkinson

Belle shed no tears, much to P's confusion. She looked this way and that way, pulling in and biting down on her lips. Finally, she folded the letter back and tucked into her breast pocket.

“Thank you,” she said. “I'm at least relieved to know that he went down with dignity. It's strange. I feel like a memory's been cut out of me. Something in me…has died.”

“Miss Belle,” P started to speak.

“No, it's alright. I'll be…alright. We have to figure out what's happened to Krat. It's…It's what Atkinson would have wanted–always prioritize the mission.” She got even quieter. “Do you mind giving me some space? I…I had to plan the next step.”

P left Belle's side, retiring to a spare hotel room to think in Gemini's company. It was a similar feeling to when Julian mourned Melody. Belle and Atkinson were in love, and while neither of them were puppets–while one was a human and the other transformed into a Carcass, the sadness was the same. At least, now he was aware of the similarity.

“Gemini?” P quietly, childishly, as if hidden away, asked.

“Yeah, buddy?” Gemini answered him.

“Simon said…that Er-go used to be-e humans. At-kin-son used to be hu-man, but he-e…be-came a monster,” P continued. He curled up on the bed, hugging Gemini. “My Er-go…was hu-man. My Er-go…is some-one special.”

Gemini listened attentively.

“Some-one called me ‘Car-lo’. When I remem-ber that name, I…fe-el so sad.” he curled up on the bed with Gemini wrapped in his arms. “It's so-o frustrating…that I can't cry-y.” He took off his coat to drape over himself like a blanket. Sandwiched between it and the duvet on the bed, P felt some sort of warmth but not the kind he craved. “I…I real-ly-y want a hug…”

“If I had arms, I would, pal. The best I can do is glow.”

“Then glow. Please.”

Gemini was silent for a moment. He offered to P his warm yellow-green glow, and he listened to him simply exist. He was somewhere in between human and puppet, but every day he was becoming more human than puppet. His heart was made of gold and gears and tick-tocked like a clock, yet it had a distinctive lub-dub to it. The sound of his springs were lessening and his limbs occasionally popped like human bones and joints did.

After reflecting on Simon's proclamation, P was Carlo, a being that hadn't been allowed to enjoy what it meant to be human until now. That was why it was so frustrating that he couldn't cry. It was why seeing Belle, who was as stoic and sturdy as she had to be despite how much she wanted to mourn her departed lover, filled him with these blue-tinted wishes. The joy he had seen in Polendina and Pulcinella as they spoke in adoration or exaltation for their companions mirrored her grief and Julian's. Now that P had seen the agony that a human felt when turning into jewel-encrusted monstrosity, and he heard and resonated with the dread of losing loved ones more than before. He was Carlo, and he had done things that stirred the memories within him. He felt remorse. He felt anger. He longed for the past.

“Gemini?” P murmured. “Do you th-ink…I wo-uld be…for-giv-en…?”

“By who?” Gemini gently asked.

“By the pup-pets, the Car-cass-es, Ro-me-o?”

Gemini paused. “I think so! Why would you ask that?”

When Belle read Atkinson's letter, what she didn't read was how apologetic Atkinson really was. He hadn't wanted to die the way that he has become. She wore the soldier's persona like a badge and a shield. She spoke like it was business, like she was trying not to speak from her heart. P was somewhat astonished that she preferred bluntness. But maybe it was for the best.

When Sophia had told him the truth about the necklace that he recovered from Romeo's body, she danced around it. It hurt much more to have the realization dawn so slowly. It was a part of being human–but did that make Belle less human? P pondered. Beautiful lies and hard truths, navigating the heart depended on the person. For Belle, this was a blessing.

P sat up. “If I co-uld apo-logize to him, I'd tell him every-thing. Ro-me-o, I'm sor-ry. I wish I co-uld se-e you again.”

Gemini pulsed his light. Chirping, he assured him that the late King wouldn't be so harsh on him. He reminded him, “I…I think, when he saw you, he was…happy. Er, about as happy as a puppet like him could be!”

P held his chest, and his Legion Arm glittered in Gemini's guiding light. “He was awa-kened, so he sure-ly had fee-lings! That's why I fe-el guil-ty.”

Gemini sighed. P couldn't be so sure about that. After all, he couldn't speak for Romeo just like Belle couldn't speak for Atkinson. Emotions were tricky, and it was hard to assume what another person truly felt.

“Well, pal, if you've got time to feel sorry, you've got time to keep moving forward!” Gemini proudly said. “No use in holing up in this room; whatever happened in Krat Central Station, investigating will bring us closer to the answers we want, yeah?”

P gave him a doubtful look. After a moment of thinking, he softened. “You're right, Gemini. If I ke-ep going, may-be I can learn mo-ore.”

“There ya go!”

P clipped Gemini back to his belt. Opening the door, he moved with purpose again. Belle and Atkinson's love had ended in tragedy, but now he understood that sometimes, the heart didn't know what to feel. He had to keep moving forward, and perhaps he would understand these feelings pertaining to Romeo more.

Notes:

There's another relationship that I want to do, so I'll likely do that one soon!

This one wasn't as emotional as To Be Loved, To Be Claimed but then, Belle's story line doesn't have that depth like the others.