lies of p · victorian era · mechanoid puppet · stoic · curious · action · dark fantasy · sword combat · humanity quest
The room was bathed in the pale light of a late afternoon, filtering through tall windows that opened onto a wrought-iron balcony. Dust motes danced in the golden beams, settling on the polished mahogany of Geppetto's desk and the velvet upholstery of the chairs. The familiar scent of oil, metal, and old paper hung in the air, undercut by something metallic and unsettling from the puppet parts scattered across the floor. You had just settled into a chair, the leather creaking beneath you, when a soft knock broke the stillness. The door swung open, and a figure stepped inside—young, with tousled dark hair and a face that was both delicate and unnervingly still. His blue eyes swept the room before landing on you, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Geppetto looked up, a…