bakerstreet | Good for you

He definitely got some options

[ The puppet can't think of a single person who doesn't appreciate an elegant tailcoat and a cravat. Just... don't mind him terribly when having a closer look means his inspection is (perhaps inappropriately) hands-on, as fingers both flesh-like and comprised of articulated metal go about smoothing out his coat lapels and adjusting his cravat with a small nod of approval.

P seems to think it's quite nice. ]

[Goro certainly didn't expect anyone to just walk up to him at this ball and start touching and eyeing him as if he were some piece of art for sale.
Raising his eyebrow he lets it happen, his public image preventing him from making a scene, but he can't help to clear his throat and shoot a glance at the - admittedly quite pretty - man in front of him.]

Pardon me, can I help you?

[ A voice chirps — quite literally! — from behind him, a genial, casual one belonging to a young man, albeit accompanied and punctuated by what sounds a little like melodic cricketsong. ]

C'mon, we talked about this! You'll have to forgive my friend, he doesn't get out much. Well — to fancy balls, that is. We all start somewhere, [ The voice laughs nervously. The puppet glances back, down at the cylindrical little lamp hanging from his belt, embossed with an engraving of a cricket. As the voice continues, the light glowing from it ebbs and grows, like an equalizer. ]

Fine, fine, I'll start. I'm Gemini, my pal's guide! And my tongue-tied friend here is, well — we're still working on the name—

You look beautiful. [ P has turned his attention back to Goro, delivering his assessment with a frankness that the talking lamp nearly chokes on. (Aw, geez!) ]

[Goro has seen many things in his life so far, even those that others would dismiss as hallucinations or insanity even, but even he hasn't seen something quite like this.

Talking cats, yes. But a glowing, talking lamp? That is a new one.
He takes in the young man's appearance from head to toe, now that his eyes were already drawn to his belt.
Fancy and exquisite clothing, the metal arm that seems to work just as delicately like the other one, lots of intriquite details are scattered over the young man's outfit, but eventually Goro's eyes keeps lingering on the man's face and how delicate it is. Especially his eyes.

He eventually notices that he is probably staring, but given the absurdityof the situation, it might be excusable.

Oh. Thank you very much. I can actually only return that compliment.

[He chooses to ignore the lamp for now, Gemini was it? Except ...]

You're still working on your name?

[ That's nothing he hasn't heard before, though typically even a compliment like beautiful might come right before demanding he scream them a requiem or some distressing threat on his life. It's taking him time to adjust to this new and very peaceful life he has now, but Gemini is, as always, a thoughtful and helpful guide.

And he's probably driving the poor guy nuts with this learning curve. ]

... [ A little at a loss for how to answer Goro, his lashes lower thoughtfully. Gemini, thankfully, speaks up, but the puppet's somber expression is just a bit complicated. ]

Uh, gosh, how do I put this? You wanna chime in here, pal?

...Father passed before he could give me one. [ It's... kind of true? ] You can call me P, for now. [ For puppet, he supposes, but he still keeps that whole thing on the down low. Habits formed under fire die hardest. ] And you are?

[Oh, Goro would understand, receiving most compliments from people who are either fans of his, or when they are about to make a request or demand. In any case, they mostly come attached to a person wanting something from him, so this is .. kind of refreshing.

And he is strangely fascinated by those eyes and lashes, suddenly realizing that that might be something that he finds quite attractive in someone ..
But for now, he tries to keep smiling politely, trying to make sense of the situation.]

Oh. I am sorry to hear that. [An absent father, huh? Something they have in common.]
P works just fine for me, if that is what you want to be called. [he's still mostly addressing the young man, and not the talking lamp, because .. well, he likes to have a face to talk to, and it was P who came up to him, not Gemini.]
I'm Goro Akechi. Goro is my first name, but most people call me Akechi. So you're free to pick whatever you prefer, I don't mind either.

[ Goro Akechi is kind to say so, the puppet thinks. To say that things are complicated between him and his creator and Father is an understatement, but he appreciates what he supposes is the intent behind his words. ]

A pleasure to meet you, Goro. Walk with me.

[ Standing here doesn't suit a conversation, apparently, since he links the exquisitely machined prosthetic with Goro's arm and begins to walk him towards a window overlooking the gardens. There's something he can't help noticing, however, and when they're far enough from the rest of the mingling crowd he speaks up. Goro's famous, after all, and he draws no small amount of attention. ]

... Why do people keep staring at you?

[It feels almost weird to have someone address him by his first name so casually, but Goro has to admit that it's something he likes.
Especially in such a formal setting, it feels almost like breaking some unspoken rule, which he greatly appreciates.

He lets himself be guided over, surprised how gentle the mechanical arm feels around his own.
Another daring move, Goro thinks, as he glances over his shoulder at some of the eyes following him and his companion.

He casually leans against the windowsill once P has decided on a place that seems fitting enough for him to continue the conversation, still smiling politely and mostly curiously at the shorter man.]

Probably because they know me from TV. I'm a somewhat famous detective, so some people are bound to recognize me.
Though I do think that some of these looks are also directed towards you. You and your looks are certainly drawing attention as well. So they might wonder who that pretty boy is that's within my company.

[ Geppetto's Puppet hasn't had the luxury of being anything but bold. In many cases, his ignorance has seen him blunder into one social faux pas or another, and in other cases, he is quite deliberate in his rule-breaking. Puppets were made to serve humans, and he has his reasons for flexing his newfound agency every chance he can get. There's also the matter of his 'inherited personality', but that's a longer tale. Suffice it to say that Goro and P might share an inclination for rebellion.

He patiently tracks the direction of Goro's gaze, unabashedly staring until some of their observers, flustered by his unflinching attention, glance away. Soon after his arrival, he'd encountered "TV", and had to be peeled away after he spent hours fascinated by the ceaseless stream of information. Coincidentally, his review of the technology did not include the famed detective. Gemini chirps first. ]

You hear that? He's a celebrity! ...—Wait. I know that look.

—Do you find the attention stifling?

[ The puppet turns back to Goro, his tone light and innocent. Oh, he's up to something, but what remains to be seen. It doesn't help that he's among the last emotive people in the room. ]

[Goro can be quite blunt himself, even behind his public mask persona of being a polite and well mannered detective, though he tries to keep it somewhat socially acceptable. But this is what happens when one does most of their own teaching of manners when growing up and chooses to play a role rather than being oneself.
Even though his urge for chaos is still constantly there, just beneath the surface, and it enjoys the moment in which these nosy people get flustered and turn away.
Well, it might not be the best move for him to be seen with a pretty guy at a ball, his reputation being at stake and all, but as long as the conversation stays innocent and there is no more touching involved, it should be fine.]

Ah, That is a good question. It depends on the situation, I would say.
I do sometimes wish for more privacy in my life, especially in certain moments.
But sometimes it can be quite enjoyable.
Though, let me correct myself. Maybe it is not the attention that I am enjoying, but rather the admiration and praise is what I am longing for, since the attention can quite easily drift away rather quickly, as you've just demonstrated so perfectly.

[Perks of a gender-swapping curse? It provides a good set of wears.

Male: 1 2 3 4 5

Female: 1 2 3 4 5]

[1 2 3 4]

[ There's levels to how casual this ends up. ]

[ info & permissions! ]

1.

2.

3.

[He’d rather be frolicking drunk and naked, if really given the choice.]

Geppetto really built the prettiest clothes horse in Krat.

A few samples of in-canon drip. Like any Soulslike, let there be fashion.

As he's impressionable and GNC af, if he thought it looked good, felt nice, and otherwise had the impression that it would make someone he's grown attached to feel as special as they make him feel, he'd even put on culturally 'inappropriate' attire for fashion disasters such as wearing a smoking jacket or dressing gown along with more conventional clothes or a dress. God help us all if he gets his hands on a lingerie catalogue and thinks "Ah, yes, this will surely impress."

Let me know how much of a disaster (or a delight) you'd enjoy. The world is our oyster and this puppet likes dressing up.

Edited 2023-11-27 16:12 (UTC)

(OOC: I would like one disaster, please. What would P wear for Dion when he comes home after a long day?)

[ Although the puppet could, as they say, really clean up by slaughtering monsters wholesale in the Underground, now that he's been given the choice whether or not he should fight, he does anything but. Which means a lot of gig work. As unpredictable as his schedule is, he always makes sure he's back in time for Dion to rise (early, as always), hot tea ready, or has the kitchen clean in time for dinner, should Dion not have other plans.

His most recent gig, cleaning and restocking La Petit a Mort (the boutique shop, not the brothel) had unfolded in an entertaining way; some of the staff from the brothel next door tended to stop by to chat, sometimes with a rather obvious motive (questions like 'so, got anyone waiting for you at home, sugar?' and 'what are you doing after work, handsome?' usually had the manager shooing them away from 'the fresh meat'. Which is awfully confusing, considering he cleaned that shop top to bottom without ever seeing any lying around. Later on, the manager's having a break, and they come back with friends.

They talk, and talk some more, and of course P gets around to mentioning the gallant young prince who invited him to live with him, and how much he'd like to do something special that can express his gratitude and admiration. Communication can be a tricky thing, and where he was attempting to say he'd like to buy him a thoughtful gift, what they heard ended up with an invitation to do a little after-shift shopping.

Roughly one hundred and fifty dosh in the hole (even after being paid) and a little bewildered despite being thoroughly reassured that Dion will absolutely love it, he heads back with a bag in each hand.

Dion's late getting back, but the fire is glowing in the hearth and there's the savory and herbaceous scent of reheated beef and vegetable stew, originating from a covered plate at the table, a cloth over a half-loaf of bread, a covered dish of butter. And, for now, no sign of his housemate, until he's in and has shed his coat.

The puppet's head pops up from the other side of the table, where he had been sitting by the hearth, reading by the firelight. Perhaps Dion is just now turning from hanging his coat, only to peep what he'd gone and spent his earnings on. Downy white costume wings hang from his shoulders in a harness attached to an ornate top and very abbreviated shorts attached to a pair of lace-topped thigh high stockings. ]

Welcome back.

[ Greagor's breath what is he wearing? ]

I've returned, forgive me the delay...

[ Dion's day, in comparison, was much more routine if also very busy. BEASTFORCE, in anticipation of an upcoming holiday of some sort, has been increasing patrols into the Underground and clearing out monsters. Only time will tell if their efforts bear any fruit but in the meanwhile it means long, tiring days which leave Dion all the more grateful for P's efforts at home.

Though he's tried making it clear he does not expect such things from the man...he did not open his home to P under any stipulations. But P would just go on to do things for him anyway and Dion found himself too moved by those small gestures to put up any further protest.

He worries what they mean, at times. He's no stranger to the idea of showing affection through acts of service.

Yet for the time being there does not seem to be any harm in it so Dion does not let himself worry as he lets the door close behind him. His halberd is placed in it's usual corner, his coat removed and put away--a twinge creeps up his right shoulder, the prince rolling it stiffly as he looks up with a smile at P's voice and-- ]

Greagor's breath!

[ What is he wearing? Color spills up Dion's neck, immediately grabbing his coat back and hurrying with it to P's side. ]

You must be freezing--what are, where did you...?!

[ The hearth's lit and the inside of his cottage is almost too warm but P's fashion sense...it doesn't have Dion thinking very clearly. ]

[ He isn't used to Dion approaching him with such urgency, and this is still the kind of advance that reads to him like an attack. It isn't that he mistrusts Dion, but P reflexively widens his stance, the fire is too close and too hot to retreat. He drops a concerned glance to the coat he's bringing. Even with the hearth lit, Dion's entrance would have swept the main room with cold air, yet not a goosebump can be seen pinched up on liberally freckled skin.

Confused and not quite able to determine what kind of alarm this is, he wonders if this is where he would, as Gemini would have once put it, have some explaining to do. They'd sounded so confident Dion would love it. This doesn't seem like Dion likes it at all.

Well. It wouldn't be the first time he's been swindled of one currency or another. ]

You said you've never seen one and I couldn't show you. Though the statue didn't look like me at all, I suppose.

[ As he speaks, his voice grows quieter. The puppet takes the coat. It won't fit with these wings on, so he just holds it in his arms, pressed up close over his middle. Even if he'd gone as far as explaining that he was just trying to show him an angel (though he'd never quite imagined doing so in this way), it's questionable if Dion's reaction would be much different. His eyes flinch, and in his chest, the soft sound of sprockets turning while he processes this. ]

I've worried you.

[ It's easy to miss the sound of springs and gears with the hearth crackling away, with Dion's own heart pounding in his ears. But the timidity. The way P's voice shrinks as he speaks, and the final confession, so softly spoken...

Dion straightens, hands empty and grasping at the open air as he tries to process and tries to do it quickly. The coat would crush those delicate feathers if he'd put it over P's shoulders as intended; holding it to his chest mimics the drapery he's seen in the Cathedral and coupled with what P says it finally clicks. Hopefully not too late. ]

--the 'angel'.

[ The full extent of Dion's folly is starting to sink in.

Carefully, moving more slowly than he had before, Dion reaches out and places a hand on P's shoulder. His left, just above the metal. ]

You surprised me, P, that is all. [ Surprised him a great deal but one thing at a time. ] Where did you obtain all this...?

[ Because while he's only starting to learn what angels are, he's pretty sure they're supposed to be more fully dressed than this. ]

[ And it represents a stark change; they've fought against common enemies, Dion has seen him stare unflinchingly down monstrous things many, many times greater than him in mass and size, straight-backed and potently daring. But his attachment to Dion, this new and this powerful, has made the puppet afraid of what he might lose.

Fondness is a wonderful, terrifying treasure.

The angel, Dion says. P's head bobs through a nod.

Perhaps he'd taken the wrong advice. He wanted to show Dion an angel, wanted to convey to him that, like the angel who broke off one of its wings to protect the saint from the cold, he would try to keep his friend safe. He's not sure how these flimsy garments were supposed to do that, but they'd been so insistent he would definitely see something angelic. ]

La Petit a Mort. [ That ominous thunder is merely Dion's imagination. ] ...This was a stupid idea. I never should have done it.

[ La Petit a Mort. The name does not strike terror into Dion's Greagor-fearing heart on its own. Sanbreque was both famous and infamous for its brothels and other such houses of comfort, though he's never been a patron himself. What makes his chest tighten is the immediate question that follows.

Such a place is for lovers, P, don't you know?

Dion cannot bring himself to ask, cannot bear to hear the answer. Instead he swallows, squeezing P's shoulder gently. ]

Sit with me?

[ If P allows he'll guide him back around the couch, but if not he'll sit alone, looking up at the man with quiet hope. ]

It was not a foolish idea, nor are you foolish for wanting to show me this. I am sorry for not understanding...

[ And for the puppet, it's just one more way of earning scratch in a neon-drenched city full of bewildering wonders. The people there seemed to him like any other (if sometimes wearing less than he's accustomed to seeing), and in the end, they were keen on helping the puppet make Dion smile. He thought that would be enough.

Nodding at Dion's request without looking his way, Dion makes the trip to the couch alone, while his metal fingers yank the downy costume wings from his back, sudden and rough enough the ribbons tying them tear loose. He has half a mind to throw them into the fire burning in the hearth, but the stink of burning feathers is terribly difficult to exorcise.

He's angry, but only at himself.

Dion's conciliatory words feel undeserved, but it turns down the heat on his consternation, and the quiet hope that meets him when the puppet looks his way reels him in closer. The costume piece, a mess of ribbons and down and gauzy fabric stretched out over a wire frame, lands on the floor at his feet as he sits by his side on the couch.

The apology is met with a shake of his head, pulling the coat closer. It still smells like flowers, and Dion, and a hint of frost from the coming winter. ]

You don't need to apologize. The fault is mine. I only wanted—

[ The sudden noise of ripping fabric has Dion's head turning--both giving him a view of P's uncovered back as well the wings being ripped away. But the sullen slope of P's shoulders and hang of his head is all Dion sees.

He reaches an arm across P's shoulders, tugging the man close enough for an embrace, or at least half of one, seated as they are side by side. ]

You wanted to do something for me, something kind and thoughtful...you do a great deal for me every day and I am deeply grateful for even the smallest of gestures...

[ His hold tightens slightly, Dion resting his cheek on P's crown. Whatever the reason for every act of kindness, from small acts to this grand attempted gesture...Dion hopes P knows how much they mean, even knowing they are undeserved. ]

Thank you. Truly, thank you.

[What if V invited him for a night at the opera? I think he would manage to communicate that people usually dress up for this, but in a pretty light-in-the-details way. He'd also imply that no matter what the puppet wears, V will get them inside, though.]

[ Fortunately, dressing for battle just means slinging a blade over his shoulder or tucked into his belt, because the last time he was in an opera house, things got a little (a LOT) heated. No, literally, the place was burning down.

It's likely getting confiscated.

Although he doesn't show up dressed in a proper tuxedo, he does cut a fine figure in a black tailcoat with red waistcoat and rather daringly checkered pants.

And, inexplicably, one of those clip-on miniature top hats, attached at a rakish angle to his hair. He's still not sure what about it is iconic, but the clerk at the shop seemed so pleased it felt a shame not to get it too. Honestly, it looks pretty ridiculous in combination with the determined, if blank, expression he wears and that dangerous-looking sickle-bladed polearm slung across his shoulder when he joins V.

He's ready to face whatever grim horrors await in the Opera House. ]

[Care to have a masked wolf who probably would gladly dress up nice with P? Alas, I'm super canonblind, but I've had a look at the journal you've set up to try to get more information. I'll probably wiki-scour later, too.

[Alivian's from a dom-sub-verse isekai where it's not unheard of for his world to connect to a world with humans, and as much as Alivian looks human he's definitely not. (I headcanon it's because of his world being acknowledged as a parallel one to human worlds.)

[I also play Young-One from the Korean anime Mignon (

dontknowhow) if a much more awkward, stoic vampire would be more interesting to you (if only because he's very easy to embarrass.)

[Either way, just checking to see if this type of character is okay for you! I've been sitting on this for awhile trying to get the courage to tag.

[If so, dealer's choice as to how delightful or disastrous his outfit is. Maybe Alivian dressed to match, whichever you choose? :3 I'm open to talking it out however necessary. <3]

[ Honestly, kinda touched you'd go through so much effort. Let me make it easier on you! I'm a firm believer that nobody should ever NEED to be canon aware to have a fun time with me, here's a wee summary:

P is the main character of a dark Gearpunk variation on The Adventures of Pinocchio, set in a fantasy European city named Krat during the Belle Epoque era. Rather than be a mischievous wooden puppet, Geppetto's Puppet is more of a lifelike robot and is never named. Although the story of Pinocchio is famous in Krat, the name Pinocchio is likewise never mentioned. Awakened by a mysterious voice begging him to save Krat, the puppet sets out to fight against the myriad dangers that have brought the once prosperous city to its knees. Throw in a little Asimov-like friction with the Puppets who serve Humanity, some The Evil Within-like horror, some Soulslike drip, add a heaping pile of Gnosticism, and you've basically got Lies of P.

Because P can be quite reserved and awkward himself (he's only had a few days of lived experience, technically speaking), and technically what runs through what passes as his circulatory system is oil (and Ergo, a kind of energy source), so he doesn't have much to offer a vampire BUT Stalkers (vigilantes and mercenaries, well respected in Krat) typically wear animal masks, and your wolf-eared masked man may remind him of one.

Krat's a desolate ruin overrun with dangers, so perhaps dropping the puppet into Al's world? ]

[Hey, I just feel awkward if I feel like I can't easily "bring anything to the table" in such a collaborative hobby. ovo;;;

[If P comes to Alivian's world, his first priority will be to make sure he has everything he needs to thrive. The world, Cramea, is housed of various fantasy-species (including beastfolk like Alivian) but also faeries, elves, dwarves, and the like - but none of them are human. The series "Glare at Me" takes place on the frosty continent of Rowena, home to a flourishing mining and smithing industry. I slap in a lot of headcanon to fill in the gaps until whenever more is scanlated - or at the very least I look for ways to buy the series myself and run it through google translate or something.

[History isn't my strongest suit by a longshot, so I'm not sure compared to what our equivalent timeperiod this would take place in. I'm also much, much better at doing just slice-of-life stuff than anything plot or action-oriented.

[I have some of the scanlated chapters linked in Alivian's journal if you want to read it. It's pure smut, mind. (And beware, there are porny ads too, so I recommend putting the tab on mute, just in case.)

[I don't mind putting Alivian into P's world if you don't mind pointing me in directions for anything I may need to know that I might not have gleaned from wiki-crawling (even if it's just a video.) But if you want the softer setting of Ali's world, I'll do my best to set the picture well!

[Please be warned that the worldbuilding we do see regarding Alivian's unique physiology (a Glare that auto-fires and cripples people with a fear response if he looks in their direction) there is a fair bit of derision and hatred pointed his way, though no one seems to have the desire to confront him to his face. He never seems to react to it, though, leading me to think that he's a bit more pacifistic than P's setting would safely permit. But he's also a lot more wounded at heart for this than he visibly lets on (we get a glimpse of this in some of his introspection and a flashback.)

[We can always play that the barrier between worlds is still open, so they can come and go between worlds as they please!]

Good for you

Goro Akechi | Persona 5 franchise | ota - m/m for shipping

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Ranma Saotome | Ranma 1/2 | OTA

Maedhros | the silmarillion | ota

Birdie Lewis | OC | Vampire: The Masquerade | OTA

Nico | Dionysus | Greek Myth

Geppetto's Puppet | Lies of P | ota

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you asked for it, does "tasteful" lingerie require a content warning

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ooc

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ooc