The Contortionist - AliceGrimm - Lies of P (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Metal snapping, porcelain breaking, oil burning.

Rosa Isabelle Street had never been in a worst state before, the once glamorous part of town was now in ruins and filled with frenzied puppets. Not that Pinocchio remembered it any other way; despite his father describing it as if able to unlock a distant memory, the puppet could not recall ever seeing Krat in any state other than pure chaos.

“'You okay buddy?” asked Gemini.

“…”

“You seem tired, somehow – CAN you feel tired?” As always, it seemed that Gemini spoke to himself.

Pinocchio hardly ever said much.

At this point, Gemini figured that his friend simply didn’t know when to speak or wasn’t used to doing so.

“Anyway... Look!” The lamp gleamed with green sparks the puppet walked past a store that still had some lights on.

“It’s a record store! Take a break, let’s check it out!”

Pinocchio knew that he had a task given by his father and that he should not be distracted by anything. Still, his heart fluttered at the idea of new songs. The puppet also felt that it would be rude not to give Gemini a break too, he also believed that the music was something he could share with everyone at the hotel.

“Don’t think too much! Just break the lock. By the looks of it, nobody has been inside for a while.” In response Pinocchio nodded and used his legion arm to smash the door, sending bits of wood and glass flying everywhere.

The barricade of wood also broke. After walking inside, they were met with various musical instruments and models of the latest record players. Pinocchio could not help but run his fingers through dust-coated piano keys and the strings of a harp that was bigger than him.

He looked around and had yet to find anything interesting enough to bring to the hotel. Upon wondering some more, he played the first record he found. It was a song by some performer named Adelina. Her voice was familiar, him and Gemini figured at least one of the records at the hotel had to be hers.

Finally, something caught the puppet’s attention. While sitting on the floor beside Gemini and looking through boxes of plain-looking records, there was one in particular that stood out.

The vinyl record was inside a nameless box. It was somehow colored pink with red stains that looked like blood. Pinocchio wiped it with his white sleeve only to find that the color was part of the resin. Upon holding the record closer to his face, he could see the image of something that looked like a pink fairy in the middle.

“What a curious thing!” Cried out Gemini from his place on the floor. “We are running a little late, pal. We should report back at the hotel for the day.” To that Pinocchio agreed again, but not without taking his peculiar find along.

･ﾟ∘₊✧────✧₊∘･ﾟ✩∘₊✧────✧₊∘･ﾟ∘₊✧────✧₊∘

Pinocchio had indeed been distracted for longer than he expected. A fair number of puppets had come his way and despite eliminating them he came back home in a messy state. It was strange. The puppet found himself frowning at how-... odd, he felt. He had trouble lifting his legs and his legion arm felt heavy. The sticky oil and the ash on his face made him feel uncomfortable.

Fatigued would be a better word to describe how he felt. Without realizing, Geppetto’s puppet was exhausted and burned-out.

It was so late that almost everyone had gone to their rooms except for Eugenie who was asleep with her upper body over her working table. Sophia was also nowhere near the Stargazer or the stairs which were her usual spots. Polendina and Pulcinella were more than likely taking care of Venigni and Antonia, leaving only Spirit to greet Pinocchio at the door.

“What a day!” said Gemini, his glow growing dim as if he too were tired despite only speaking all day.

An exhausted Pinocchio sat down on that discrete little table by the bookshelves near the piano in the East room, accompanied only by Gemini and the large painting of Antonia. In a careless manner, the boy emptied his bag and all the trinkets onto the round table where one item stood out; it was the curious pink vinyl. He stood so fast that the chair he was sitting on fell backwards, he almost tripped as he rushed to the record player. There was only static noise before soft, gentle music began. Compared to the other records, this one did not come along with the lyrics written anywhere, though clearly its original packaging was missing. He was left with no alternative but to play close attention to catch the lyrics.

Twisted all my limbs for you
Two of them in knots and two of them in loops.

Ribbons tied around like a noose,
Wonder if I'll ever get it loose..

Pinocchio stared at the mix of red and pink as the record spun rapidly, his legion arm cracking after a hard day’s work and the worn-out strings snapping quietly. The puppet began to twist and turns some of the screws in attempts to temporarily fix the sounds.

I'm done, I'm done, done doin' back bends, I break and I snap
It's no fun, no fun, pushed myself into a box while you held
Out a gun, I'm done, ooh ha-ha-ha-ha

Something about the track made Pinocchio feel in trance, he listened attentively in an effort to understand the song but found it difficult.

Why did such a peaceful melody speak of weapons and injuries? Why was the singer laughing at the end of such a serious verse? He wondered if it was a song about submission.

At the same time, he interpreted it as freedom, because he connected laughter with happiness. Happiness of being separated from that person who made the singer hurt.

Maybe?

Now, the puppet wondered if he should laugh more often. Should he be laughing every time he returned to the hotel missing a piece here and there? Every time his joints made piercing screeching sounds like old metal?

Bones are crushing, bones are crushing (pushin' me)
Bodies touching, bodies touching (lovin' me)

Entranced, the puppet’s head was tilted, and he found himself swaying side to side while holding onto his damaged legion arm which was all but dead weight at this point.

Blood is pumping, blood is pumping (pullin' me)
Feeling nothing, feeling nothing (f*ckin' me)

Fabric ripped; threads snapped unable to support the heavy metal of the legion arm that had fallen apart. It was heavy, the sound of it falling would echo and certainly awaken more than Eugine, however the expected loud sound of the metal falling onto the floor never came. Instead came a distorted voice and the horrible sound of the sharp needle scratching the vinyl record, projecting the sound loudly into the horn. The sound even made Pinocchio lose his balance, without his legion arm he was only able to cover his right ear.

“What vulgar lyrics...” said a familiar voice with a tone of disapproval. It came from the person Pinocchio least wanted to ever hear that from, his father. “You are a mess.” Said Geppetto, holding the damaged legion arm with both hands and looking at the pitiful state it was in.

Pinocchio could see the way the inventor lifted his fingers so as to not keep direct contact for too long, the metal must’ve been very hot.

“You are a mess. Good boys must keep a neat appearance at all times…” Geppetto continued to speak with a tone of disapproval as he looked at his puppet up and down almost with disgust. It made Pinocchio self-conscious, he too looked at himself and wondered how his appearance was wrong. Was Geppetto not the one who asked him to do the job that resulted in him getting dirty? “Do get cleaned up.” The elder said.

Pinocchio caught the legion arm that Geppetto pressed to his chest and watched the man leave him alone with nothing but silence. He looked at his missing limb and dirty clothes, aware of how broken he was.

“It’s no fun...”

“You said something buddy?” Gemini lit up instantly, always caught by surprise whenever Pinocchio decided to use his voice box.

Unfortunately for Gemini, the puppet didn’t speak again. Instead, he shook his head to dismiss the issue and began to walk over to Venigni’s workstation to reattach his arm.

By that time, all the noise had woken Eugenie up, and she happily offered to aid Pinocchio. She had been awake for that awkward interaction between creator and creation, one which was too similar to those meant for father and son—though, was that not quite literally the same relationship in some way? Neither she nor Gemini bothered to think too much about it, and Pinocchio knew he had to be a good boy, a perfect son and it seemed that falling apart was part of it.

Falling apart was part of loving someone,

At least that was the only way he knew how to love, despite how much it hurt and how wrong it felt to crave to be cared for and cherished with gentleness.

Maybe hurting to be loved was worth laughing at after all.