Carlo
@carlolives.bsky.social
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Lies of P RP | mun is 25+ | SFW RPs | open to multifandom rp
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carlolives.bsky.social
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 —
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭.

Lies of P RP account, starring Carlo Geppetto - the f̶o̶r̶g̶o̶t̶t̶e̶n̶ maligned son
carlolives.bsky.social
// I'm trying not to bite off more than I can chew, but I'm so very tempted to make an L-1130 RP account or maybe something for Doctor Strange 🙈
carlolives.bsky.social
— Frazzled by their sudden descent, he takes a moment to regain his balance, refusing to release the rope. Deep breaths, Carlo.

"... why do you look like you had fun?" he hisses out at P.
carlolives.bsky.social
— his wrist, then gestures for P to come towards him. Once the boy is within arm's reach, he encircles his doppelganger around the waist and holds him close. Carlo holds in a breath, then waltzes right off the beam.

They careen to the floor, swinging towards the pews. Carlo bites back a curse. —
carlolives.bsky.social
— hadn't been the one to ask for P's input.

With a silent nod, though, he confirms their plan. Carlo traipses over the rafters, inching ever closer towards the rope that is affixed to some curtain high above the saint's figure, forever preserved in stone.

He reaches for the rope, wraps it around —
carlolives.bsky.social
The boy is annoyingly calm about what they hope to accomplish. Carlo recognizes, deep down, that it comes from a place of envy - his nerves are always ablaze before a task - but that doesn't stop him from narrowing his eyes in a way that screams if-this-doesn't-work-I'm-blaming-you.

As if he —
carlolives.bsky.social
— safe."

Right, then. That's all he wanted to say.

With a nod and the thought that he may never see this puppet again, he turns to leave. (It would be so easy, to get caught up in reverie, but there are people who need him more than Romeo right now.)
carlolives.bsky.social
— With a solemn nod, he murmurs, "Thank you. I'll make my way there, post-haste. I..."

He's never been one for good-byes. They feel too much like a promise, and Carlo has never been good at keeping those. It's easier to ask that responsibility of someone else.

"Make sure you keep that pendant —
carlolives.bsky.social
He should tense, he should bolt, he should run and never look back—

But the hand at his shoulder steadies him in a way nothing else ever could. Carlo peers up at the haunting red eyes overhead. For a brief second, he swears he can see Romeo grinning at him.

It must be his imagination. —
carlolives.bsky.social
Carlo looks over his shoulder and narrows his gaze. Any bright ideas? he seems to ask.
carlolives.bsky.social
The altar is too bold, too reckless. No, the priest must have a study or a hidden lockbox where he keeps his ill-gotten goods. (And supposing he does find all the skimmed coinage, how will he prove that it's been illegally stashed?)
carlolives.bsky.social
He leaps onto the rafters and eyes the statue of Saint Frangelico. Nearby, there is a rope that dangles from the roof. They can rappel down from there if need be. For now, though, Carlo wants to take advantage of their vantage point.

If he were a corrupt priest, where would he hide stolen tithes?
carlolives.bsky.social
brother from another mother, but said secret brother is just as good if not *better* than him at emulating the heroes of his youth?

Carlo can't help but to associate this P with the same sickening feeling he does Geppetto. The boy is looking down upon him, isn't he?

There's only one thing for it:
carlolives.bsky.social
Unnerved by how easily his movements were tracked, Carlo clears his throats and tries to affect nonchalance. He is neither impressed nor feeling threatened, no, of course not.

"Keeping up is the least you ought to do," he mutters more to himself than anything.

So not only does he have a secret
carlolives.bsky.social
leads into an opening through the masonry, crumbled away from age. Carlo peers down, spying the altar awash in moonlight. He throws a look over his shoulder to see if P really can keep up before gesturing for them to continue onward.
carlolives.bsky.social
he continues on their way... only to slow his pace once they are mere steps from the entrance. A haunting noise emanates from above. Carlo wonders if there isn't a draft whistling through the rafters.

He steps towards a scaffold, off to the side, and hastens up the ladder. The top platform
carlolives.bsky.social
What a morbid sense of humor this boy has. Carlo makes a face, insulted that he would be taken for a clone. As far as he's concerned, he was here first. Shouldn't that make P the clone?

"Do me a favor: Keep your jokes to yourself. I'm not like the crowd who applauds out of pity."

With a huff,
carlolives.bsky.social
the truth may be, he lets out a heavy sigh and mutters, "Can you at least point me in a direction? I want to reassure the survivors that..." he goes quiet for a moment, before strengthening his resolve, "That help is on the way."
carlolives.bsky.social
"*Your* puppets?" he echoes, mind racing to fill in the blanks that that leaves behind. Carlo presses his lips into a thin line.

He's seen far too many bodies strewn about, both metallic and otherwise. Surely Romeo had not commanded them to lash out at innocents fleeing from the city.

Whatever
carlolives.bsky.social
// I'll be getting to replies tomorrow if not today; just recovering from the holidays 🤧
carlolives.bsky.social
on edge. Carlo looks at him and states, "Do you have a cover story prepared? If he asks us who we are, we have to say we're brothers. It'd be stranger if we weren't."
carlolives.bsky.social
Exasperation furrows across his brow. A challenge implies that P stands a chance against him. Well, he'll prove the boy wrong, once and for all, that he is not someone you underestimate.

"Just try to keep up. I'm not doubling back for you."

A pause. Their similarities might put the priest
carlolives.bsky.social
But he makes no motion to remove it and merely scans their surroundings. "So, are we the only ones left? Is this all that remains of Krat?"
carlolives.bsky.social
With a sigh, he says, "You can get up now." He looks away. That brief moment when he was affixing the necklace tells him that the hair is real somehow. How that can be, he can't bring himself to ask.

Carlo eyes the pendant gleaming against the puppet's chassis. "Hmph. It doesn't suit you."
carlolives.bsky.social
A part of him wonders how Giuseppe managed to fabricate hair that resembles Romeo's so closely. Is it real? Synthetic? The part of him that wonders is also the part of him that is afraid to know.

Carlo doesn't intend to find out, even as he loops the necklace around the puppet and clasps it shut.
carlolives.bsky.social
What, is there something on his face? He lifts a brow in response, waiting for the teenager to say something. Anything.

When met with silence, he holds in a sigh and folds his arms. You know the look. Someone whose patience has been tested one too many times.

"Are you... okay?"