When You Wish Upon A Star You Get Nothing At All {Flashback}

Val Velocity · Apr 11, 2017

When Francesco had been told they were freeing him, he had expected something completely different.

He had wished for a circus, a real one! One where he could entertain a real audience with his many talents. All he really wished for was to be famous, the star he deserved to be.

Instead he was led to an ugly apartment in the residential area which, according to the officer with bright pink eyes, was his new home. Not only was the building ugly, but the apartment was on top of some sort of shop that didn’t seem to match Francesco’s wishes of fame.

By the time they reached his new guardian’s door, the puppet was already looking uneasy and ready to bolt away from there if he saw the chance.

The officer practically threw Francesco’s bags at him to get his attention. He managed to catch one and let the other one fall on the floor. All they contained was some clothes, legal documents and some other stuff that was supposed to be useful. They didn't let him keep anything from the restaurant, arguing that it was evidence.

In a cheery voice, the guy with the pink eyes reminded him of the basic rules he had to follow in order to be a good citizen. He couldn’t care less about being “a good citizen”, but if he didn’t want to be locked in a cell for the rest of his days, he had to at least try. After he had nodded to indicate he understood all of the rules, the officer rang the doorbell.

Francesco straightened his new boring clothes, like he used to do with his ringmaster outfit before a show, and waited for his new roommate to open the door.

@A M E N O

Zell · Apr 11, 2017

It genuinely confused him how this ended up happening.

He wasn't the kind of person who made it a point to try and stand out, not that he could help it. Every time he went outside someone would see his transluscent body as the sun glinted and refracted through his hands and cheeks, causing splays of colors on the pavement and the walls of buildings and ask if he was real. Some would claim that he was a work of art given life, the same way someone would breathe life to a sculpture, or a corpse.

But aside from that he dressed rather plainly, for the styles of the day. A hoodie, tan pants, and plush sneakers that offered his feet many layers of protection against the ground.

Just your normal, average glass person.

Still, he'd been contacted by a man claiming that they needed him for something. Apparently there was a... person (Cardamon could hear the vocal air quotes around the word and it made his neck prickle, in a strictly metaphorical sense) who had been involved with some kind of black magic scheme that needed to be taken under protection by someone until further notice, or until he was deemed ready to reenter society.

Cardamon couldn't say no. Well, he technically could, but the man on the other end hinted not-too-subtly that the consequences for non-coorperation were dire, and he was definitely not about to go putting his fingers into that beehive.

So he prepped some space for this new guest. It wasn't easy, considering that Cardamon had a tiny bit of a hoarding problem: 16th century army regalia and 1950s sunglasses shared space in the closet, while precious necklaces and hokey voodoo dolls both got display space in his glass cabinets.

When the knock came, Cardamon took a deep breath and, standing from his work, opened the door. He greeted both the officer and his charge while gripping a strange tool between his teeth.

"Mister.... Van Oranje-Nassau?" the officer asked.

"Mmph." Cardamon grunted in affirmation, taking the tool from his mouth. "The one and only."

"From today you'll be in charge of... Francesco here."

Cardamon looked at his charge for the first time. A wood person, like Pinocchio stood there dressed in plain clothes. Well, seeing him, he could definitely see how he might have been chosen for this. He held out his hand with... not a smile, but at least a pleasant tone. "Nice to meet you."

Val Velocity · Apr 11, 2017

Francesco was never taught that staring was not a polite thing to do, so that’s exactly what he did the moment he saw Cardamon. He didn’t even bother greeting him back; he just inspected him with his gaze while he had his little talk with the officer.

No one told him what the person who would take care of him looked like, not even the fact that he was a walking piece of glass. No matter how pretty his features were, the thing that stood out the most to Francesco was the fact that they looked like just another nobody. So instead of offering him a smile or just anything nice, his face was of pure disappointment.

“What the hell are you?” He said instead of a simple hello.

Before Cardamon had the chance to reply at all, Francesco’s hand flew to the hem of his hoodie to lift it up without any warning. He crouched just enough to see through his belly as the officer tried really hard not to laugh out loud; so professional.

“You aren’t orange, Orange.” He pointed out as he confirmed that his ridiculous name had nothing to do with his own appearance “So what’s with the dumb name.”

Another thing he was never taught was to respect people’s personal spaces, or all the questions and comments that were impolite to say.

The officer dragged him back by the collar of his Manta Carlos Parks & Recreation Department t-shirt, one that had been so kindly given to him because they had nothing else. Instead of being scolded, he was just given a disapproving look, and for some reason that was enough to shut him up for now. But that didn't stop him from glaring at Cardamon, as if all of what was happening to Francesco was his fault and no one else's.

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When You Wish Upon A Star You Get Nothing At All {Flashback}

Val Velocity

Well-Known Member

Zell

Well-Known Member

Val Velocity

Well-Known Member