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Chapter Text

"I heard your wish, dear old friend. 'Twas so loud ...we will see what happens when the star on my wand releases its' magic through your little one's wooden body and centers itself in his or her heart and soul, good Geppetto. You have given so much happiness to others as you promised- you *MORE THAN deserve* to have your dearest wish come true."

With that, Chiara Belmagio the Blue Faerie, once known merely as both the elder daughter of bakers Anna and Alberto and the kindest, warmest, most patient girl in the village of Pariva, gently tapped the raven-haired head of Geppetto's finest and most dear creation of all- a little marionette puppet he had carved out of white pine and named 'Pinocchio' despite clearly creating them to be a near-twin to his lost child Carlo.

"Little puppet made of pine,
*wake*! The Gift of Life is thine..."

The strings disappeared in a shimmering silvery-blue crown of starlight. And the moment that the very last one faded away, as Pinocchio stretched and blinked large clear bright blue orbs for eyes framed by thin inky brows and long dark tassels of lashes before they were rubbed at, Chiara looked deep inside herself- into Pinocchio's heart ...and she smiled softly even while her own heart sank. A Real Boy Pinocchio would not eventually become- not because it was nowhere near possible, but due to her being after all *a GIRL*.

But 'twas a *VERY* DANGEROUS world for a young girl- especially one so pure and innocent, whose eyes a blend between her own and Geppetto's blue radiated sweetness from her literal doll-face beneath her adorable flop of silken-soft thick bangs as black and shining as a raven's wings. The same style and thickness of that of her little sister Ilaria (now the Scarlet Faerie as well as the famed prima donna 'Cleo del Mar')- Geppetto's color before age had turned it white as snow- hers' and Geppetto's softness...

Pinocchio looked around a bit, fluttering her white-gloved hands back and forth in awe and wonder. Then she looked up at Chiara, displaying a smile that was Ily's in brightness but Geppetto's in sweetness and made her lovely eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky. Stars- her 'brilliante piccola stella'...

"Hello, Ms. Blue Fairy!" she said in a sweet clear voice like a tinkling golden, silver, or crystal bell or a little songbird. Then she gasped and clamped her hands over her mouth. "I- *I can TALK*??" she whispered to herself.

Chiara laughed fondly. "Yes, dear child. You can talk, move on your own- oh, careful now!" she cautioned the young wooden girl who was now attempting to stand up. She shook almost wildly for a moment, but just as Chiara prepared to catch her when she fell, Pinocchio braced herself up against the wall, then took a careful couple of steps forward.

"That's it- just put one foot in front of the other..."

She let out an endearing squeak when she succeeded, further celebrating by doing a little skipping dance-step, her leather shoes hardly making a sound even though her feet were wooden. Then she sat down on the edge of the workbench. Her legs were apart, not crossed even a little- but they were still close together, so that was alright. She was young- she would learn further manners eventually...

"Well done, 'bambolina'. Yes, Pinocchio- I've given you life, because tonight Geppetto wished for a real boy."

"Am *I* a 'real boy', Ms. Blue Faerie??"

Chiara gently shook her sun-kissed golden head that Niccolo had used to tease was 'the color of uncooked pasta'. "Your heart and soul are as real as can be ...but no, Pinocchio. You are a girl, like me, even though you do not look like one."

Pinocchio looked as though she wanted to be happy about that, but she gripped the workbench edge a little tightly, swinging her small thin legs and either running her teeth over her bottom lip or lightly biting it in thought as the gentle rise of her eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it, 'cocca' (sweetie)?" Chiara near-whispered, again longing to reach out and gently hug the young toy- but now more out of comfort than simple adoration of a cute sweet child.

"...So, when do I b'come a *REAL-real* live living BOY?? B'cause that sounds like that's what will make -Father happy."

*OUCH*- her heart!!! Time to clear this up yet explain things to the young female.

"Little puppet made of pine,
Geppetto's wish was on the line-
But his feelings were *TANGLED*
And KNOTTED *like TWINE*.

Then light from a star
Gave life to a toy:
A marionette *girl*
Full of WONDER and *JOY*...!

But to be *TRULY 'Real'*,
You must pass an ordeal...

"Geppetto (and technically Illy) has done his part, and I have done mine. To be 'real' and make Geppetto's wish come true will be *ENTIRELY* up *to YOU* now, young Pinocchio. You have to prove to yourself and others that you are brave, truthful, and unselfish; learn to choose between 'right' and 'wrong' with the help of your conscience, and if you do, someday, you will be as Real to others as you are to Geppetto and myself."

Another anxious frown, leg-swing, and lip-bite as Pinocchio did her best to process what she had just been told. "-Will Father love me still and be happy even if I'm not a Real Boy, or a boy at all?? And what or who are 'con-shuns'??"

But just as Chiara opened her mouth to kindly explain, she was beaten to it by another female's musical voice- a *CHIRRUPING one*, even. Oh! It was the humble cricket who'd-

*Wait*. She KNEW this anthropomorphic cricket- had granted a wish of her own some months back...

"*No, no*- 'conscience', 'donnina' (young lady)! Abstract- NOUN- *singular*! 'What are conscience??' *I'LL tell ya*! A 'conscience' is that still small voice that most people won't listen to- or, rather, listen to *in whole*. And THAT is just the *ENTIRE problem* with the world t'day, y' see; yes, siree- ma'am!"

"-Are YOU *MY conscience*, Ms. Talkin' Cricket?? You- You sound awful sure 'f it all..."

"*Who, ME*??! No, no, honey- I'm not a 'conscience' *myself*. I'm just a cricket singin' m' way from hearth t' hearth- more of an INSECT than an *INSTINCT*."

Even with as good and kind a father as Geppetto, a wooden girl newly brought to life was bound to find herself in trouble sooner or later. She would *NEED* a conscience since she didn't yet have one of her own, and Chiara had a soft spot for crickets as well as doves. -*Why NOT* a cricket, if she needed help (plus just a friend in general; *EVERYONE* needed a friend of some sort)?

"Would you *LIKE TO be* Pinocchio's conscience, Jiminy Cricket?"

Aforementioned quasi-cricket both chirruped and squeaked in alarm, literally hopping around on her tattered heel. Then she stammered and drew back GLOWING *RED* in the face- and not (completely) due to Chiara's born and Fae outer beauty. "*Oh*!! O-oh! Miss- Miss Blue Faerie! It's- It's you again! N-Nice t' see ya, milady; unexpected, yes ma'am- but still nice.
"*SORRY, 'signora'*- didn't see ya there while talkin' to young Pinocchio here! Didn't mean t' ignore ya."

Chiara only gave a soft fond laugh. "That's alright- quite alright. Hello again, Jiminy. -Well? Would you?"

"Y-Yeah ...uh-huh! Sure- why not? I might be a lost soul now and still, but I've been wantin' t' settle down somewhere for a while. Why not as a conscience? Consider m'self a lady of high moral standards anyway- and 'thanks' t' my folks, I'm *WELL aware* of the difference b'tween right 'n wrong!"

The Blue Faerie nodded in approval. This would do just fine. Though, she had to caution, "'Twould only be temporary until such a time as Pinocchio grows her own 'still small voice'."

"So, 'round th' time she b'comes *REAL-Real* t' others as much as her pops?"

"Just so. 'Tis Magic's Rules, I'm afraid- at least one or two have now been bent, but this one cannot be broken. Your own wish can only continue for so long- 'twas not meant to be permanent."

"-Long as I don't hafta live with or deal with *EDGAR*, the sleazy kiss- *ahem*, 'slick' misogynist; *UGH*!!"

"Well- that settles it, then! Please kneel, 'Donna Grillo'."

Jiminy did so- though couldn't help but quippingly add, "*No TRICKS*, now!"

Chiara snickered quietly- Pinocchio giggled even if she didn't quite get the joke. The younger female just thought that what 'Miss Jiminy' said sounded funny.

"I hereby appoint and dub you Pinocchio's Conscience- High Keeper and Lady of the Knowledge of Right and Wrong, a Trusted Counselor in Moments of Temptation, and Guide Along the Straight and Narrow Path. -Arise, *LADY Jiminy Cricket*!"

No 'bibbidi-bobbidi-boo' was needed alongside the tap of a wand and shimmering swath of star-sparkles as once more Cinderella's rags were turned to riches- though more of a fine dapper suit than a beautiful bejeweled and lace-trimmed ballgown. Still, she looked *QUITE elegant*!

"You already looked real pretty b'fore, Miss Jiminy ...but now, you're even *pretti-ER*!"

Ahhh- the sweet blunt innocence of a child. Jiminy chortled a musical laugh akin to three notes going upward on a scale even as her pale green cheeks flushed a pleased shade of rose. She'd often been called 'plain' if not 'homely' or outright 'ugly' when she herself was human, and girls/women/ladies were *supposed to be* pretty and beautiful in a conventional/traditional way, to many peoples' minds!

"Awww...! Thank ya kindly, sweetheart- I appreciate that. Must be th' eyes- they're not half-bad, I s'pose. Gotta say that you're a not just real cute but *ADORABLE* little lady yourself...!"

Jiminy's heart fluttered and skipped a beat at the sound of Pinocchio's sweet laughter, though she didn't fully know why.

"'Grazie'- that's awful nice 'f ya t' say."

Yes- yes. This would do quite nicely. They were already getting on very well, Jiminy enchanted by Pinocchio's pure innocent sweetness and Pinocchio taken in by Jiminy's genuine kindly charm that was not the least bit sleazy, slimy, or slick like formerly that of her conman/woman parents Myrna and Martin. *So SWEET* that 'Little Woodenhead' outright called the now-quasi-cricket 'pretty' ...and Chiara knew that it wasn't just the deep dark violet eyes.
Pinocchio seemed to have inherited her semi-aunt's talent of looking into people's hearts and seeing the *TRUE beauty* found deep within, if any; good gracious...!

"'Donna' Jiminy, let your job
Restore your inner worth and pride-
Remember, 'Little Woodenhead', to be a good girl
And always let your conscience be your guide;
For now, my dear 'Grillo Parlente' and Pinocchio,
The time has come for me to go..."

Pinocchio's smile fell- she didn't quite pout, but her sweet blue eyes shone sadly. "Do you have other wishes t' help make come true for others, Miss Blue Faerie?"

"'Si, tesorina'."

"-S' alright. I understand. You- You can go 'f ya need to. B'sides, Jiminy 'n I have each other now- and so will Father, soon."

A Faerie technically wasn't supposed to do this- but *FEH* to semantics! This was HER *niece*- now her youngest after Nicco's granddaughters Dafne and Nina, both of whom would soon have competition for being the sweetest girls in all of Pariva...

"Pinocchio? May- May I hug you before I have to go?"

"What's a 'hug'?? -Can I hug ya back, if it's somethin' good?"

In answer, Chiara did what she had longed to upon first seeing Pinocchio in whole in Geppetto's cozy little workshop that had once been a lutheir's home. She reached out, took a gentle hold of Pinocchio's small wooden body, and pulled her close in a warm embrace, her heart thrilling and backs of her own cerulean eyes *PLEASANTLY stinging* when tentatively and shyly but sweetly, the young toy's thin arms stole around her back and hugged her tight and sweet in return.

"*Awww*..." Jiminy murmured softly with a small smile.

Then with a gentle hair-stroke and sweet tender kiss to the side of Pinocchio's head, Chiara forced herself to let go, the both of them pulling back as Pinocchio sat back down on the edge of the workbench.

"When a boy or girl is brave, truthful, and unselfish as well as patient and kind, it makes their father *VERY proud*. But the most important thing is this: being 'Real' isn't about what you're *made of*. *It's about what's INSIDE YOUR HEART*. And a heart you have in truth, despite what others may say because of your being a puppet."

Pinocchio nodded in semi-understanding.

Then with that plus an outer goodbye and quiet warm inner 'I love you', Chiara disappeared from the room in the same soft beam of starlight from whence she'd come.

"Goodbye, milady!"

"Goodbye! *And thank you*!"

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

Jiminy Hadriana Sebastian (her grandfather had INSISTED whether she was a boy or girl, since he was on his deathbed and would not live to see his beloved grandchild, so she was told once when her pops and ma were drunk) Cricket silently looked at the girl toy she had been given and taken responsibility for alongside this Mr. Geppetto. Her round sweet blue eyes were bright- human yet not. She shivered- but it wasn't from a place of fear or unease. It was more a quivering thrill from seeing *WONDROUS* magic performed in front of her, and leftover nerves.

Just then, she was yanked from her thoughts when suddenly it was as if Pinocchio was roughly pushed forward until she fell off of the bench and landed with a clatter on the floor.

"*Ouch*!" she yelped.

Jiminy gasped and dashed forward, leaping up off of the workbench herself and letting her trusty umbrella made over good as brand-new carry her the rest of the way. "*Pinocchio*! Pinokes- are you alright?!"

Pinocchio dizzily shook her head and rubbed at her side. "I- I think so. I don't- I don't *REALLY hurt* from fallin' ...but I still kinda felt it."

"Like an *IMPRESSION of hurtin'*? As in, it's in the very back 'f your mind?"

"-I guess so. Some- Someone I couldn't see was *ANGRY* and DISGUSTED for some reason, so they pushed me until I fell off."

But WHO would even begin to try to hurt a sweet innocent young wooden girl just come to life?? She'd done *NOTHING* 'wrong'! It puzzled Jiminy and made her angry too.

At that moment, Geppetto stumbled into view holding a lit candle in one gnarled callused hand and *a GUN* in the other, a black-and-white longish-furred pampered prince of a kitten with golden eyes fearfully following at his heels. Jiminy's fight-or-flight instincts sharply kicked in- but she chose to stay where she was so as to try and protect Pinocchio should things get *UGLY* one way or another.

"Come- *Come out*! I've- I've got a gun."

Geppetto's voice trembled as much as his body, making the candle flame's light dance in shivering shadows on the walls. Pinocchio trembled too, whimpering and shrinking back in fear and beginning upset.

"Put the gun down, mister! There's no need for it, and you're SCARIN' *your CHILD* an awful lot by by wavin' it around like that."

Geppetto jumped and yelped at the stern female voice that sounded like nobody he knew, but obeyed and set the handgun down on a small table. Then he lowered his eyes and saw Pinocchio there crouching and trembling on the floor before his workbench. "...Pinocchio??" he whispered uncertainly, tone laced with quiet hope.

Pinocchio swallowed hard. Geppetto- Father had wished for a *Real BOY*, and she wasn't a boy. Would he act like whomever had angrily shoved her off of the workbench- in disappointment and heartbreak? -Would *HER heart* that Miss Blue Faerie said she had break, in the process?

'"Brave"- one 'f the things that Miss Blue Faerie said I hafta be in order t' be *REAL-Real* is "brave". Bet-Better start now...' "Y-*YES, Father*- it's ME! P-*Pinocchio*. I'm- I'm *AWFUL sorry* I'm not a boy like you wanted... but I'll still do my best t' be *GOOD* so I can become Real one day after doin' a bunch of stuff."

Shock was bleeding away- only to be replaced with the most tender, warm, and unconditionally loving of looks alongside awe and wonder from behind the toymaker's rimless glasses. Geppetto's hands were gentle as gentle as he picked his now-living and *string-LESS* toy up off of the floor, making Jiminy still clinging onto Pinocchio's shoulder give a marrow-deep sigh of relief.

"Boy, girl- either or neither, my sweet little woodenhead, it does not matter to me. You are my dear, beloved child- my dearest wish and most secret longing come true and fulfilled. I love you just for that, and I always will."

"I- I don't really know you, but I love you too- just for bein' my father!"

'Why do I feel as though someone is missing and SHOULD *be here*- but not Constanza??' Geppetto wondered to himself as he hugged Pinocchio close, chortling tenderly when he felt her sweet young arms wrap themselves around his neck in return.

He wanted dearly to celebrate- but that could wait. It was *MORE THAN late*, and children needed a good night's sleep. As evidenced when his little girl released a kittenish yawn and rubbed at her eyes- the adrenenline rush must have faded. In the morning, after breakfast, he would press the button or turn the key of every single music box in his shop and merrily dance around with his sweet new daughter.

"Come, now- we go to sleep," Geppetto murmured, carrying his dear child over to his bed and gently laying her down beside him once he'd kicked off his slippers. He settled them both down under the covers, his no-longer empty heart strumming like a harp when he felt and saw Pinocchio snuggling even further into his chest. (He barely noticed in his own tiredness, shock, and joy a little lady cricket hopping up into an empty padded matchbox and falling asleep herself.)

"Now, close your eyes and go to sleep, Pinocchio-mine. Sweet dreams, my sweet girl... I love you so very much."

"L've you too, Father. Sweet dreams..."

Geppetto stared out at the window once more at a very bright star, but all he uttered was a smiled "*Thank you*" before closing his own eyes and playing with his elder sister Addy as children themselves.

Chapter Text

'*School*- *SCHOOL*. Your little boy MUST start going to school *today*! Why wait? He *WON'T learn* *ANYTHING* if you keep him shut away inside, good Geppetto...'

Geppetto blinked and shook his head as he came slowly awake from his surprising but *WONDERFUL* late night before- he looked down and saw his sweet little *puppet-GIRL* sound asleep still, nestled into his chest over his heart. He smiled softly, tenderly running his fingers through her beautiful bangs as soft as silk and black as his own had used to be before age had turned it white. She seemed SO *familiar*, somehow- as though she were a combination of himself and a loved one lost ...but Constanza Leona had been his only 'inamorata', betrothed, wife, and then mother to their dear sweet laughing Carlo. Had he simply been thinking of never having been able to give Carlo so much as one sibling- or Constanza more than the one child??

-Well, it did not matter right now. He'd been planning to wait at least a week before Pinocchio was sent off to the village school, to give her time to settle in and get to know the world around her ...but maybe his conscience that strangely felt like it was glowing and pulsing bright red was right. Maybe he *WOULDN'T* be doing Pinocchio any favors that way- he *HAD been* more-or-less terrified as well as heartbroken to leave his house outside of necessities ever since- the church. The church where he had lost *BOTH* loves of his life...
And she -his apparent conscience- was not going to let the matter rest, anyway. So he might as well heed her advice.

So Geppetto gently shook Pinocchio's small thin shoulder and murmured, "Pinocchio- Pinocchio? Time to get up, little woodenhead. Rise and shine, my sweet girl."

Thankfully, while Pinocchio was a deep sleeper, she was fairly easy to wake. She stretched, yawned, and rubbed at her eyes before sitting up- and when the sleepy haziness had cleared away, it was as though fog had cleared away from the sky to reveal two of the fairest stars in all the heavens that sparkled and shone with pure sweet innocent love up at him from her beaming literal doll-face. "G' morning, Father!" she chirruped like a little songbird or kitten, instantly 'glomping' him in a hug and leaning up just enough to be able to press a sweet kiss to his cheek.

*Ohhhh*- HOW he had *MISSED* that!! Boy- girl; it did not matter. He had *DEARLY missed* a child of his own saying 'Good morning' to him (and Constanza) and giving him an enthusiastic physical greeting, as well.

He chortled fondly and hugged her back gently yet with *EVERYTHING* that he had, softly kissing her white-pine temple. "And a *VERY good* morning to you, little princess. Let's get up and get ready for the day, now. For today, you are going to school for the very first time."

"-'School'?? What's 'school', Father?"

"It's where boys and girls go to learn things and get smart."

Pinocchio's brow furrowed a bit, but then cleared up as she nodded at Geppetto. After all, she trusted and loved her Father- if this 'school' thing sounded good to him, then she would do her very best at it even if it felt just a bit too soon. She could learn about the world around her *WHILE she was* in and out of 'school', couldn't she? "-Okay, Father. I'll start goin' t' school right away, 'f that's what you want me t' do!"

Another affectionate kiss on the side of her head as he gently patted her shoulder and rubbed her back. "That would make me *VERY proud* and happy, 'dolcezza'. Thank you. -Come along then, my little Pinocchio! We must get you ready, and we must also have breakfast- can't go to school on an empty stomach, after all!"

Pinocchio nodded again, and made to hop out of bed before she suddenly seemed to recall something, gasping sharply and scrambling over Geppetto's legs to look at his bedside table.

"What? What is it, little woodenhead?" Geppetto queried not a little concernedly.

"*Jiminy Cricket*- my conscience! I almost forgot about her!" was her reply. "She's- She's s'posed t' teach me 'bout 'right' and 'wrong', and she's my friend, too! I need t' *wake HER* up!"

It was on the tip of Geppetto's tongue to say that a conscience was ALREADY *inside of you*, and didn't really come in the form of *a CRICKET*- but he didn't. Maybe 'twas simply different for just-turned-live puppets; who knew?? And it was awful nice and sweet that his little woodenhead had made her first friend already... he could only hope that she would continue to make friends at and out of school, she was such a sweet loving girl.

"Jiminy! -Jiminy?? 'S time t' wake up, 'amica mia'. I'm goin' to somethin' called 'school' t'day- Father says I gotta, and I wanna make him proud, so that's what I'm gonna do!
"J-Jiminy? Are- Are you okay?? You're not wakin' up or startin' t' open your eyes..."

Geppetto's warm heart panged at the sudden worry and fright mingled with instant warm affection in his daughter's beautiful blue orbs for eyes when she gently shook a kindly-looking little lady cricket sleeping in a make-shift matchbox bed (an *EMPTY one*, thank goodness), but the other female didn't so much as stir or flicker her eyes. When Pinocchio leaned back, he carefully leaned over and gently laid his fingertip on the pale green forehead- then he frowned in concern.

"-Oh, dear. Your 'Jiminy' feels quite warm. *WORRIEDLY warm*."

"What's- What's *THAT mean*, Father??" Pinocchio gulped, doing her very best to be brave and blink back frightened worried tears.

"She might be sick- she certainly *FEELS like it*, the poor thing! When someone feels warmer than I do, then they have a 'fever'. And it's not something good, I'm afraid."

"Will- Will she get better?"

"She will, yes. She just needs to keep sleeping and heal. Don't worry, Pinocchio sweetheart- I'll take very good care of your little friend while you're at school, and then she can do her 'conscience' job once she's well again. Though that might take a couple of days or so."

"Okay, Father. Th-Thank you."

"You're *MORE THAN welcome*, 'tesoro'. After all, she's apparently your friend, this 'Signora' Jiminy- and good parents -fathers and mothers- help to take care of their friends when THEY do not feel good as much as their own children, *I* say!
"-Come, now. Let's get washed up so you can be all nice and clean for school; make a good first impression, and all that."

Just before Pinocchio hopped out of bed to follow after Geppetto, she softly pecked a sweet kiss to Jiminy's straw-blonde little head and gently rubbed her tiny shoulder with a white-gloved fingertip. "'M awful sorry you don't feel well, Jiminy. You- You can keep sleepin' so that you can get better- don't wantcha to get even *MORE sick* 'on the job'! That- That wouldn't help ya, I don't think. I'll- I'll tell ya all about 'school' when I get back, I promise! And I also promise I'll be a *GOOD girl* even if I hafta pretend t' be a boy, -even if you're not able to be there like you're s'posed to.
"Love ya, Jim'ny. Please get better soon- I don't really like it when either you or Father doesn't feel well."

Oh, yes- Dafne and Nina Belmagio were going to have *QUITE the friendly competition* of being the sweetest girls in all of Pariva, now! Geppetto dearly hoped that they would be very good friends with his little woodenhead Pinocchio- his dear little princess as Carlo had been Constanza's sweet prince...

Pinocchio didn't mind the warm soapy or clear water or soft flannel cloth that gave her a good wash- it felt rather nice. Geppetto chortled when she shyly said this, "*It DOES*, doesn't it? Either just starting out a brand-new day, or soaping and soaking after a long hard day..."

She was also given a new set of clean clothes that were like her old ones once she was dried off with another soft flannel cloth save for the dungarees being green, the shirt a brighter shade of yellow with the collar matching the rest of it, the lining on her dark vest silver instead of gold, her leather Mary-Jane-esque shoes black rather than brown, and her Tyrolean cap a deep shade of blue with the ribbon-band and feather being as white as Father's hair. "Everyone that's able to should have more than one set of clothes," it was gently explained to her. "And it's what a good parent does, if they're able."

No time for a large breakfast- but that was okay. The 'sourdough' toast spread with pear jam and glass of cold milk was delicious, all the same.

"*GOOD*, isn't it?"

"*Uh-huh*!" Pinocchio smiled brightly and nodded.

Almost all too soon for both their likings, Geppetto was leading Pinocchio to the front door. He opened it, and bright sunlight poured in along with the happy chattering and laughing of children running, skipping, or walking to school. He worried a bit when Pinocchio squinted and shaded her eyes, but relaxed once she got used to it. At least it didn't seem to have hurt her-!

"*Father*! Look- up there! What's that big shining thing??"

"Ah- that is *the SUN*, little princess. It goes around the Earth once every day- it's simple, basic science. You'll learn all about it and more, in school!"

"*What are THOSE*??"

"Huh? -*Oh, THOSE*! They are your new schoolmates, and hopefully friends; girls and boys."

"*REAL girls and boys*, Father?"

Geppetto laughed kindly. "Yes, yes- but let's get you on your way now, or you'll be late. Here- here's an apple for the teacher, and this is your very first schoolbook.
"Now, turn around and let me look you over- let me get a look at you!"

Pinocchio grinned and did so, Geppetto laughing heartily when she turned her little wooden body all the way around while keeping her head stationary, and then posing in a 'Ta-dah!!' manner.

"Oh, *VERY handsome*- *very handsome*! -Run along now, 'tesorino'. I will be right here when you get back- and we will eat dinner precisely at the stroke of five."

"*Got it*, Father! The stroke of five!"

Geppetto gave her a pat on the head, and then she turned around and began merrily skipping off down the cobblestone street. -Though she turned back around at a happy mewl, looking down to see Father's playful black-and-white longish-haired kitten Figaro whom she had been introduced to that morning before breakfast alongside his pretty goldfish Cleo happily following after her.
"Wait- *wait*! No, no, Figaro! Go on- go back to Father!" Pinocchio laughingly scolded the impish ball of fur. "I'm sorry, Figgy. School is *not for YOU*!"

Big gold kitten eyes pouted up at her along with a sad little face- and the same petulant expression was directed right up at Geppetto when he retrieved their wayward scamp by the scruff of his neck and scooped him up into the woodcarver's arms.

"I'll see ya, Cleo, Father, and Jiminy later- I promise!" Pinocchio said sweetly while giving Figaro a gentle pet.

Figaro meowed poutingly, but licked her hand to show that he forgave his new 'sister', not even beginning to make another face when he too was gifted with a soft sweet kiss on the head like he did whenever he and Cleo had to say 'goodnight', and had to reciprocate.

Then Pinocchio hugged her father tight around the waist and blew a kiss upward that he 'caught' and put in his pocket for safekeeping before she was once more on her merry way again, calling back, "Goodbye, Father- goodbye, Figgy! I love you!"

"Goodbye, my dear child; hurry back! 'Ti viglio bene anch'io'! Ah, there she goes- my girl... Ha-ha; you miss her already, don't you? Yes- well, yes, I miss her already too. Already, yes. Don't you, Figaro- Cleo?
"Do you miss her? Yes? -Yes? Ah, well- going to school, it will be good for her. *VERY good*."

As though that were a trigger, Jiminy's skin instantly cooled off as she jolted and jerked awake, sitting bolt upright!

Cleo burbled in surprise, Figaro screeched and yowled, and Geppetto gasped sharply and stumbled backward. "'*Madonna*'!! 'Santo cielo'- 'Signora o Signorina' Jiminy, you are awake! -Are you well? You were quite warm, earlier. It rather worried my little woodenhead Pinocchio."

But Jiminy didn't seem to have heard the kindly toymaker, only worriedly muttering as she buttoned on and up her vest, slid on her coat-jacket, near-jammed her top hat onto her head, and took up her umbrella, "*School*??!! *JUMPIN' JEEPERS*, what time is it?! *FINE conscience* *I* turned out t' be, so far- first REAL day on the job, and I'm *already late*! WHY'D I oversleep??! *SHAME ON me*!
"I'd say 'Oh, well- she can't get in much trouble b'tween HERE *and SCHOOL*', but this innocent sweet little puppet-girl is *runnin' around loose* on the streets WITHOUT a conscience! -Can you IMAGINE *the TROUBLE* she's bound t' get herself into, if I'm not there??!"

And with that, she scurried and hopped out the cracked open window after her young wooden charge. Geppetto took no offense even if Cleo and Figaro huffed- after all, this seemed like a very nice and -heh! conscientious literal little lady, and she clearly cared a lot about Pinocchio's safety and aforementioned puppet-girl in general. 'Dear me- I hope that she's able to catch up with Pinocchio soon! Note to self- set a fifth place at the table with dollhouse dishes tonight...'

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

Every sight, every SMELL, *every SOUND* was brand-new to Pinocchio- but she didn't look around as she was merrily skipping along or stop and stare much as she was tempted to. Instead, she followed after the other children as steadfastly as though she were a bloodhound puppy on the trail of a rabbit. Father didn't want her to be 'late' for 'school', so being 'late' sounded like a *NOT good* thing to be; hence, she would-

She yelped as something long and semi-thin was stuck between her legs, making her trip and fall with a clatter as well as drop her schoolbook and the teacher's apple. Then a silky strangely-accented voice exclaimed all concern and compassion, "*Oh*! Oh, 'Dio'- *how CLUMSY* of me! A lady of my breeding-! *Oh, my my my*- tsk, tsk, tsk! I'm *TERRIBLY sorry*, my dear! I *do* hope you're not INJURED!"

Nobody had yet told Pinocchio not to talk to strangers, and she also didn't want to be impolite, so she said brightly with her usual sunny smile once she was helped up and dusted off by a shabbily elegant lady Fox with keen amber-brown eyes dressed in a simple lovely jade-green dress (possessing a subtle patch on one side of the long skirt, and another on her left sleeve) covered by a bright blue cape underlined with vibrant red, and greyish-green feathered lady's hat, "I'm alright- I'm not broken, or anything!"

She stiffened and bit her lower lip when she felt someone else's other cane stretch out her back dungarees pocket and begin to reach their hand or paw into it- then breathed an inward sigh of relief when she heard that someone being bonked on the head, hence stopping it. A *lady CAT* with scruffy brown-and-cream fur and pale green eyes, she saw when she turned around to see who had done that and why- but SHE was just *plain SHABBY*, compared to the Fox. Her white ruffled blouse, mustard-yellow shawl, and dullish purple skirt were ill-fitting, rumpled, and patched, and her own smaller grey bonnet was missing a good amount of feathers or flowers.
She looked simple and good-natured, and the Fox was all sweet smiles and kindly eyes ...but something deep down made Pinocchio feel like she *could NOT* trust either one of them, for all the Fox's charm.

"Ahhh- *SPLENDID*! Why, you must be constructed of pretty sturdy oak! -Ah, no; I stand corrected. 'Tis PINE you smell of and like- *WHITE pine*, I do believe! Ah, well- we can't *ALL* be constructed of quality lumber; he-he!
"*Well, well*- you're QUITE *the SCHOLAR*, I see; look here, Giddy! I presume you're on your way to lecture at the science academy?"

Pinocchio wanted SO *BADLY* to scold the Fox when she took a big bite or two out of the apple meant for her teacher at school, and picked up her schoolbook before 'reading' it upside down! Neither of those things were HERS'! But she bit and held her tongue, not wanting to cause a fuss. At least the book was handed back to her a moment later.
"Nope! I'm *going to SCHOOL*, so I can learn a bunch of stuff to be a *REAL boy* and make my father proud!"

Her feelings were more than a bit hurt by the scoff of "-A *REAL boy*?"- but then it bled into confusion when the Fox added with a big grin and showy gesture, "*Why on Earth* would you want to be 'real', when you can be- *FAMOUS*, instead? Haven't you ever heard of the *EASY road* to success?? -No?
"I'm speaking, my boy, of *the THEATER*! Yes- BRIGHT LIGHTS, *MUSIC*, *applause*! -*FAME*!"

"'Famous'?? 'Fame'? But I wanna *be REAL*! And my father said I should go to school- THAT'S what'll make him awful proud, he said!"

Pinocchio tried to skip or run off again, but she was held and dragged back by the Fox's- oh. It was the handle of an umbrella, like Jiminy had- but fancier with ruffles and a different color. Same with the Cat.

"Yes, yes, my boy- but to be FAMOUS *is* to be 'real'! Until then, you're just a NOBODY! And do you want to be a 'nobody'?? *NO*! Everybody who's ANYBODY wants to be a *SOME-body*! *Of COURSE*, he said you should go to school- *ALL parents* say that, the killjoys! But who needs -*blech*- SCHOOL when you have *the THEATER*?! And with *THAT personality*, that profile, that PHYSIQUE- why, he's a natural-born actor! Eh?? Right, Giuda?
"'Tis *the LIFE*, music, singing, and dancing! *And ACTING*...! Why, the people would *just LOVE* to see you sing and dance as the stage lights give you *a MAGIC GLOW*! Why- I can see your name in LIGHTS; lights *six feet high*! -And WON'T your father *be PROUD*; yes, indeed! Think of all the money you could be able to earn and give to him, so that he'll *NEVER* need to work again..."

It sure sounded nice- but Pinocchio did not want to be late for school. She tried to move away again, but this time it was as though her feet were stuck to the ground and wouldn't let her move until she said with a little shrug, "-Okay. I'll be FAMOUS!"

THEN she was again able to move as the Fox wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders and crowed in triumph and joy, "*Capital*! Now then, we're wasting precious time; come! *On to the theater*! Lady Honest Juno and her good friend Giuda know JUST the man you want and need to meet!
"*To STROMBOLI'S*! *FAME awaits*!"

The Fox began singing a jaunty tune- something about the life of an 'actor' being *the ONLY* life for someone like Pinocchio. Aforementioned girl wanted to move away and run off to where Father had said she was supposed to be, but wasn't able to until a few minutes later when there was a sharp shrill whistle that sounded strangely and *HAPPILY familiar* coming from the top of 'Honest Juno's' hat amongst the feathers.

"*Oh*! It's Jiminy! -Whatcha doin' up there??"

The Fox stammered and stuttered in almost a panicked way. Pinocchio's eyes blew wide and her heart grew freezing cold to the point of hurting when she saw 'Giuda' somehow take a *large wooden hammer* out from beneath her shawl and aim it towards where the quasi-cricket was perched. But before Pinocchio could cry '*LOOK OUT*!!', the clever elder female chirpingly hopped away, making Giuda hit HONEST JUNO instead! Then she hopped on top of *the CAT'S* head, and tricked her into knocking *HERSELF out* as well.

Pinocchio breathed a sigh of relief as Jiminy floated down onto the Fox's head again via umbrella, sinking down to her knees so they could be more at eye-level with each other. She wanted to ask her 'conscience' how she was doing, since Father had said she felt not-good warm earlier- but instead, her worries came tumbling out of her pale xyloid lips.

"Jiminy, -I was just told by Ms. Honest Juno that I don't need t' go to school when I can be 'famous' instead. I guess a magic glow from the lights and givin' Father a lot of money so he'll never need to work again sounds awful nice ...but Father said that going to school was what will make him proud of me, even though SHE said that the 'theater' was the place t' do that. -*Who'm I s'posed to believe*??"

Jiminy frowned, snarled, and glared down at the unconscious Fox whose furry bonneted head she was standing atop on. Slimy, sneaky, scummy, detestable twisted vixen and queen in name only- trying to charm and trick a sweet innocent naive girl like Pinocchio and mess with her head like that! *SHAME ON them*!!

Then she cleared her expression and said kindly but a bit sternly, "Alright, now- calm down and take it easy, 'cocca' (sweetie). I didn't get a chance t' tell ya last night, so I'm gonna tell ya now. The world is full of 'temptations'- those are the things that *SEEM right* at the time, but even though the RIGHT things may seem *WRONG* sometimes, sometimes the *WRONG things* may be right at the *wrong* time or, uh- vice-versa. One such thing? *That's HER*.
"Pinokes, as a rule of thumb, when somebody *calls themselves* 'honest' like it's part of their actual name, *they AREN'T*. Nothin' wrong with singin', dancin', and actin', let alone makin' a livin' out of it (I'm quite the- heh! Chirper and triller m'self), and it's mighty sweet 'f ya to want to be able to make sure yours pops won't ever have to work again- but she's tryin' t' lead ya down *the WRONG path*, 'cause HOW does *SHE know* what exactly your father wants ya t' do, and what'll actually make him proud, hmm?"

"...She doesn't. She doesn't know him, or he would have mentioned her at one point. B'sides, I *DO wanna* go t' school..."

"-Were ya pushed again, Pinoke??"

"...More like *held still* until I said and did what the other not-there person wanted me t' do."

Jiminy gritted her teeth and clenched the hand holding her umbrella. *Ohhhh*, how she'd DEARLY LOVE to give this Him-Or-Her that was messin' with Pinocchio a *BIG piece* of her mind along with a nice-sized slice of humble pie...!!!

"Well, I'm here, like I said I would be- sorry I'm late. *Overslept*, for some weird reason, and I usually don't!
"Come on- I haven't been in this town before, but I can see that school's juuuusst- *thataway*. Kids are still arrivin', so you shouldn't be late."

At the word 'late', Pinocchio squeaked in alarm and jumped up before running with all of her might towards the schoolhouse, Jiminy hopping up onto her shoulder and holding on tight. The quasi-cricket chuckled fondly to herself- well, she was certainly a punctual little thing, apparently!

When she reached the large red brick building that a tall dark haired and dark-clothed man was ringing a bell in front of, Pinocchio smiled and waved at him and the other boys and girls as she ran for the door while still holding onto her schoolbook. But she stopped short and shrank back when shrieks and cries of alarm, fear, and disgust burst from their mouths, the dark man GLARING down at her.

"*What is he*??!"

"*He's WEIRD*!"

"Is he *made of WOOD*??"

-Then CRUEL, *MEAN*, *snarky* taunting and teasing laughter and nasty words like '*EVIL*', '*born of WITCHCRAFT*', and '*unnatural*' were flung in Pinocchio's direction before the dark man shouted angrily at her, "*OUT*!!! *Get OUT*!! *Get OUT*, and STAY out!! School is for *REAL children*- NOT *ridiculous puppets*! PUPPETS belong in *puppet SHOW*; make people *laugh*!"

*That HURT*. That *REALLY* hurt. But Pinocchio was bound and determined to make Father proud by 'learning things and getting smart'- so even though she did not at all like being laughed or shouted at, and tears were burning and shining in her big blue eyes, she stood firm (if shakily) and looked up at what she supposed was 'the teacher' up in the eye.
'Just be like Jiminy- be like Father. Be like Miss Blue Faerie; polite, but stand straight and tall...'

"I'm- I'm a puppet; yes, I know, Mr. Teacher. But- But I'm gonna be a *REAL boy* too, one day, and Father said that goin' t' school would make him real proud- to learn things and get smart! So, -may I please come in, and learn with my other 'schoolmates' from you??
"I'm awful sorry I don't have an apple for you- I did, but somebody not my friend was real rude and ate it. But, look! See? I still have my schoolbook, and I promise I'll use it real well!"

But neither 'Mr. Teacher's' face or eyes were softened or warmed the least little bit by Pinocchio's earnest polite plea, and the other children only continued to meanly laugh, taunt, tease, and make fun of Pinocchio- now also calling her a 'goody-two-shoes' or a 'Daddy's boy', and being VERY *rude* about it.

"*Get OUT* of my sight, you ugly little wooden gnat!"

"-*No*. No, 'signore'. *PLEASE* won't you let me in?? Maybe, if I go to school, I'll become a Real Boy quicker! Then neither you nor the other kids will hafta worry about my bein' a puppet anymore."

The schoolmaster snarled angrily and roughly picked Pinocchio up by the scruff of her neck, giving her a not-so-little shake that an also-furious Jiminy who was keeping quiet as quiet so as not be squished had to hold fast to the brim of Pinocchio's cap for, lest she be shaken off. "Stubborn little 'marionetta'!! Then I'll simply *take you there myself*, if you won't listen and do as the adults say! Into the schoolhouse, the rest of you- and don't move until I come back and call roll before starting class!
"Now, now- we cannot be having laughing *at SCHOOL*; it distracts you from your studies. -You can laugh at the silly stupid little toy who thinks he's a boy ONSTAGE later on tonight, once I take him to Mr. Stromboli's puppet show."

He strode angrily away from the schoolhouse with a scared and emotionally-hurt Pinocchio and frozen furious hidden Jiminy Cricket in tow, not once seeing either an awakened and aching sly Fox and crafty Cat following very softly after him- or the stunned stupid and greatly confused and worried woodcarver/toymaker become father once more catching sight of this as he was buying groceries for the celebration dinner tonight, who also quietly followed behind (the Fox and Cat did not see him).

......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

He was quite stunned and startled to see the frontmost leading caravan wagon now proclaiming 'The New Marionette Family Theater' instead of 'Stromboli the Master Showman' on the sign- but no matter. No matter! He must have simply changed the name to sound more family and children-friendly... yes.
'Si'- that was what was going on!

The schoolmaster sharply rapped on the door with his free hand until it opened to reveal a young-ish woman with kind dark eyes that sparkled from a friendly modestly-pretty face framed by black ringlets of curls pulled back into a bun held together with jeweled flower pins. She was about average height for a 'donna', and wore a simple brown and white dress decorated with patches of bright or deep color. She also wore laced-up boots ...and had one slender leg in a jointed iron brace.

Pinocchio couldn't help but query worriedly of the kind-eyed lady while Jiminy let out a slow long whistle of sympathy, "-Did you hurt your leg??"

The injured lady gave Pinocchio a sweet smile that lit up her face. It was *GENUINE*- REAL, like Father's, Jiminy's, and the Blue Faerie's own; not slimy or fake like 'Honest Juno's' or 'Giuda's'. "It's a long story, 'bambola'- but it gets better every day."
Then she took another look at Pinocchio- and her jaw dropped while her eyes near-popped from her face. "'*MADRE MARIA*'!! You're not just a cute sweet little boy- you're a *magic puppet*!" she gasped.

Then she GLARED at the schoolmaster with flashing eyes and thinned lips. "-Let me guess. You want to SELL this poor sweet innocent child to our theater?"

"STROMBOLI would snatch up this kind of offer *in MINUTES*! No- *seconds*! Where is he??!! I have a WONDROUS little wooden goldmine to give him that will make people laugh as he sings silly songs and dances funny dances; go and get him, girl!"

She sniffed and drew herself upright. "I have a name, 'per favore e millegrazie', and it's '*Fabiana*'. I'm *NOT sorry* to say that Signor Stromboli no longer is in charge of what is now the New Marionette Family Theater. He is being imprisoned for at least twenty or so years for stealing from his employees and his brother Signor Vito. *I* am now the 'Master Showman', so to speak.
"And, *NO*- I *will NOT* take this young boy for any amount of money that you offer me. Either you have stolen him from someone, or he tried to go to school after his father or mother sent him there, and you did not let him inside to learn and make friends with the other children, and therefore took him straight to what used to be Stromboli's caravan."

The schoolmaster was so flabbergasted and angry that he actually stomped his foot down hard on the ground like a petulant toddler while again shaking Pinocchio. "SCHOOL is for *REAL children*, as I said!! This ugly empty-headed little gnat is a *PUPPET*! *Puppets belong in puppet-show*!
"*Just TAKE HIM*- puppets do not have mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, godparents, cousins, or siblings like *flesh-blood-and-bone* boys and girls do! They have OWNERS- they are *TOYS*, and toys have *owners*!"

"-'Mi scusi, signore'. That is *MY SON*- my dear beloved child as much as Carlo was to me that you are talking so cruelly and callously about. I will thank you *NOT* to say such horrid things about my 'tesoro'."

Pinocchio's heart gave a glad leap even as it sank in sad disappointment. "*Father*!" she cried, tears stinging her eyes again.

She struggled and tried to let the teacher let go of her, but to no avail until Fabiana deftly plucked her from his cruel grasp and said lightly and sweetly to Mr. Geppetto, "Here, 'buono signore'! Was this who you were looking for? Well, *here he is*!"

Geppetto had long since put his groceries down, so he was more than able to readily take his beloved child into his arms and hold her close, safe, and warm. "*Oh, PINOCCHIO*! Pinocchio, my dear sweet precious girl! What- What has happened to you, little woodenhead?"

It was too much. Pinocchio burst into shamed, hurt, and heartbroken tears, burying her face into Geppetto's frail-seeming shoulder and hugging him tight as tight, whimpering and sniffling like a mewling kitten trapped out in the rain when the teacher spat at them both, "-'Girl'?? *GIRL*!?? Either you have finally been driven CRAZY from grief, 'good Geppetto', -or your little wooden goldmine is *a FREAK*! *How dare you* try and send *ANY kind* of *FREAK* to MY school, and therefore dirty its halls with its presence?!"

"*How dare YOU* call Mr. Geppetto's and my sweet Pinokes a 'freak', you- you *BIG BULLY*??!" Jiminy shrieked angrily, waving her umbrella at the cruel schoolmaster from her perch.

"...'Si'- yes. HOW. *DARE*. You," Geppetto snarled like a rumble of thunder even as he gently stroked Pinocchio's hair and softly rubbed her back in an attempt at comfort. "I did not think that you could be *so CRUEL* and *UN-feeling* towards an innocent child, wooden, flesh-blood-and-bone, or otherwise. Bless my Carlo's soul, but he had *NOTHING* but *GOOD things* to say about you! Why will you not give his sweet little sister a chance- the same chance as he?"

Just then, Honest Juno came back onto the scene along with Giuda. "NO- *NO*!!" she whined in frustration while her feline companion glared and pouted. "YOU'RE not supposed to be here in full, Miss Goody-Goody Hopping Giles Fabiana! *Stromboli* is still supposed to be here- HE would have taken up that silly stupid if cute little puppet in a hot second, and Giddy and I would have been *RICH* and on our way down Easy Street!
"And *YOU*!!! *You*, apparently Pinocchio's father, weren't supposed to be here, either! -Or, at least, not seen us leading your little kit away from boring humdrum school to the magical glowing lights of the theater, you were either so distracted or your arms were so full of groceries!!"

#"*DAMN you*, Chiara!!! Why do you *ALWAYS* have to spoil mine and the Heartless' fun!? What you did was *against the rules*, anyway! He won't become a good little Real Boy- he'll become *like ME*; wicked, depraved, and *LOVING* it!
He's *a PUPPET*- he has *NO* HEART, much as you believe so, even if he has a chirping conscience."#

#"*I* *did NOTHING*, Ilaria Alberta Belmagio. That was all the horrid schoolmaster and kindly Miss Fabiana, and Pinocchio's own *RIGHT decision* that you tried to manipulate. But boy or girl, Pinocchio is still a good sweet child, and she WAS *born with* a heart and soul just like any other person ...until someone rips out and destroys their heart. *Or TRIES TO*.
And while I'm at it, *how dare you* try and hurt or manipulate *YOUR OWN child* this way?!! For your own child of a sort she is, since you and Geppetto were romantically fond of each other and would have been married one day after a slow courting, he was and is so shy...!"#

#"*I*. *NEVER*. Wanted. ANY. Children like soft-hearted milk-and-water Geppetto did, *sister dearest Chia*. Dandling a boy or girl on my knee while stuck living in dusty little old Pariva right across from Mama and Papa? *NO, thank you*- that's not the life I wanted! A famous toymaker husband, all right- fine and dandy, if he wanted to make children happy so much. -But any rearing of any I'd be forced to have as my 'duty' would have been his and his alone, Chiara Evelina Belmagio!"#

Geppetto gasped alongside Pinocchio. He KNEW *that voice*! But never had it sounded *so CRUEL* and- well, *HEARTLESS*, even that night when she came to try and spirit him away. -And that same angelic voice had urged him this morning to send his sweet beloved little woodenhead out into the world before she was prepared, and her safety was completely and utterly assured of...
"-*Ilaria*??! Ilaria Belmagio??"

"-*Mama*!" '"Zia" ...she called the Blue Faerie "Chiara". *The Blue Faerie's MY AUNT*! That's why she could grant Father's wish, sorta!'

The Blue Faerie and Scarlet Faerie appeared before them all, the former smiling kindly and sadly at her now-youngest niece while the latter sneered, twisting her lovely fair-skinned features as she fiercely tugged on a long silken thick lock of hair so dark a shade of brown it was practically black while her dark green eyes glittered coldly. Her long one-shouldered *low-cut* dress was made of gleaming red satin and decorated with tiny glittering rubies and matching small scarlet feathers. Rubies and red feathers also adorned her ebony crown, and her long slender wand was so dark a shade of red it was also practically BLACK with another round ruby tipping the end like Chiara's crystal star. She wore a choker of black pearls around her neck, and her long sharp nails were varnished a deep blood-red.
A stark contrast indeed, to her more angelic and modestly-dressed golden-haired and blue-eyed sister attired in a warm rich pale blue of gossamer silk that shimmered with stardust, her long sleeves iridescent swathes of starlight and her only accessory a blue velveteen ribbon in her sun-kissed waves of shoulder-length locks.

But before either gentle-hearted woodcarver, sweet live puppet, or kindly quasi-cricket had so much as a chance to speak, the Scarlet Faerie roughly grabbed a hold of her elder sister's wrist attached to the hand that was holding her star-tipped wand, and then pointed her own and the other's wand in Pinocchio's direction. Pinocchio trembled in Geppetto's arms and swallowed hard. What was gonna happen *now*?? Her Mama looked *so ANGRY* and disgusted...

"Hmm..." she hummed, tilting her head mock-thoughtfully. "You told HER that she was supposed to prove herself 'brave, truthful, and unselfish' in order to one day be a *REAL child*- *her*, when Geppetto's 'little woodenhead' should have been a *BOY*, as it was after all what he *WISHED FOR*: a *Real BOY*! You ever so rudely disappeared before I could make a little wager with you that you prove in *three days' time*, Pinocchio would earn his right to become a Real Boy. If you won, then Geppetto would truly get his wish. -If *I* won, then you would have to give me *YOUR heart* so I could destroy it as well as mine.
"Well ...it seems as though despite being *a PUPPET* -a HEARTLESS little puppet-, he's as much of a sickeningly-sweet goody-two-shoes as YOU are. He proved himself brave *THREE times* last night and today- he was nothing but truthful whenever he spoke, even to *strangers* (*NAUGHTY boy*! Didn't your father or chirping conscience teach you any better than that??)- and he was *UN-selfish* because all he was mainly thinking of and about even when given a promise of fame and fortune was his dear sweet father; *GAH*!! He's *just like* his father, and you!

"You want him to be a *REAL boy* so badly- to *TRULY grant* Geppetto's wish!? *Then, FINE*! Just like accidentally with your own little wooden dove forty years earlier, so it will happen again."

With an inner burst of magic, sizzling vibrant red scarlet light and shimmering bright blue starlight shot forth and poured out from the tips of both wands with a respective popping crackle and a soft tinkle of beautiful heavenly music, hitting Pinocchio square in the chest! She cried out in surprise and *PAIN*, bending over as much as she could as blue and red magic sparkled over her small form- turning her thin wooden limbs and torso ...into blood, bone, organs, and muscle tissue under soft snow-pale skin!!
Her lips flushed faintly pink, her long thick raven-black hair lengthened until it kissed the small of her back, and her dungarees became a pretty green jumper-dress with a nice yellow blouse underneath while her Tyrolean cap became a simple lovely blue and white feathered ribbon headband. Her rosy cheeks and elongated-button nose stayed the same- the latter of which Ilaria again sneered at as much as herself in whole.

And that was not all. The two lights also surrounded Jiminy Cricket near-blindingly, and everyone could *just* see a solid gold star-shaped badge proclaiming 'OFFICIAL CONSCIENCE' in all capital letters appearing on the right lapel of her jacket before she suddenly *disappeared* into thin air.

"*Jiminy*!!!" Pinocchio cried out heartbrokenly, uselessly holding out her arms for someone who was no longer there- anywhere in Italy, at least.

"Awww- now, why so sad, everyone?? It's a *HAPPY ending* all around! Pinocchio's earned his right to becoming a Real Boy, Geppetto's wish is finally granted in full, and Sir Jiminy Cricket has earned his badge that he so desired.
"-And what use is a *REAL boy* to a puppeteer? A *REAL boy* can go to school with the other children, after all!"

Now tears were dripping down Geppetto's own cheeks. "...*WHY, Ilaria*?? *WHY* try and lead *OUR child* down the wrong path, HURTING her in the process?!" he choked out.

"Because you DARED TO fall in love and marry someone else *BESIDES me* after Chiara cast her Forgetting Spell as per The Rules of Fae!! You were supposed to only love and pine for ME- no other woman or man! *How dare you*??!"

"*That's not fair*!" Pinocchio burst out, glaring damply at the beautiful but cold-hearted Faerie who was semi her Mama. "Father *didn't remember* you, or Zia Chiara! He's the sweetest, kindest, warmest, gentlest man in the world; why should he be alone and awful lonely with an *EMPTY heart* that HURT, if he couldn't be with you?!
"He loved Stepmama Constanza, and my would-have-been big brother Carlo! Wh-What? Did- Did YOU *kill HIM*!?"

"-So what if I did? Spell or no, he was *MINE*, and NOBODY ELSE'S! I *HAD to* punish him for that- either by seemingly dropping a bomb on *that BITCH* and her milksop son, or by steering you away from all things Right to the point where you were *DEAD* yourself or near-dead in order to 'prove yourself'."

Chiara SNAPPED and took a firm hold of her sister, instantly disappearing in a near-blinding sparkle of starlight alongside the Fox and Cat.

"...Come, my sweet girl. Let's go home. -'Tis best, probably, to homeschool you. I will talk to Signor Rizzi- see what he can do to help. He is a kind and good man, little woodenhead. He is not like -him."

"-Okay, Father. Do- Do you think I'll ever see Jiminy again?"

"'Si', Pinocchio sweetheart. I'm *QUITE SURE* that you will! She loved you, and you love her- and love *ALWAYS finds a way*, when it is true and pure..."

Chapter Text

It literally hit them out of nowhere. -Or, rather, hit Father and Figaro while Geppetto had shoved Cleo and Pinocchio out of the way of the careening cart. Then it- well, ran them over.

Both girls *SCREAMED* with tears pooling in their eyes and rushed over to the two males' prone bleeding and broken forms, any thoughts of lunch later on, chores needed to be done afterwards, or new wooden projects instantly forgotten. Pinocchio sobbed raggedly and shook Geppetto's arm, begging him to open his eyes and get up so they could get him and 'Figgy' to the doctor's, and he could help them to get better. Cleo just quavered "*Papa*..." in her own thickly-accented voice while gently laying a hand on his shoulder.

With great effort, Geppetto's non-spectacled bright blue eyes cracked open, and even then only half-way. (His glasses had flown off of his face and been broken in the collision.) And it took just as much of a struggle to reach a shaking callused long-fingered hand up to his beloved girls' sweet beautiful faces as he raspily whispered, "I- I love you. *I love you*..."
But before either of his daughters of the heart (and blood, by magic) could say anything back, his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand fell limply to his side.

A heartbeat or two no longer there, and fresh tears welled up and *gushed* down Cleo's and Pinocchio's faces as they dropped onto Geppetto's body now as still as one of his wooden dolls, puppets, or figurines *FOREVER*, Cleo weepily gathering Figaro's own forever-quiet still-sluggishly-bleeding furry form close as well.

"-*No*. *NO*!! *Papa- Figaro*! Papa, you cannot leave us here! *You cannot leave us here*!"

"*FATHER*!!! *Father, PLEASE*- COME BACK! Don't leave us too, Figgy...!!"

Gentle hands pulled the Tommaso girls away- those of Geppetto's best friends Signor Rizzi and Signor Lazardo, as well as the married couple of teachers Signora Constantina and Signora Vitelli, who had taken over the village school after the mayor of Pariva had fired and jailed the previous schoolmaster four years ago. They sobbed and struggled, but eventually gave up and fell into each others' arms while a quietly-weeping Rizzi and Lazardo gently and tenderly picked Geppetto's body up and Signora Vitelli, just as tearful, gathered that of Figaro into a clean spare blanket before tightly wrapping it. Signora Constantina, meanwhile, had retrieved every single piece of Geppetto's spectacles, trying to stay strong for her loving wife and the two sweet girls that had been Geppetto's dearest most precious treasures after his wife and son had been so horrendously killed in that sudden church bombing all those years ago even though she felt like breaking down into tears herself.

Any children who had been unfortunately watching were wailing and sobbing their own eyes out, and hardly any of the adults' or youths' eyes were dry either as they all mourned one of the kindest and most gentle, warm-hearted, and respectful men to ever be born and live in their sleepy quaint little village of Pariva, Esperia, Italy alongside his daughters whom had been given human form by a just-as-kind-hearted Faerie who had also once been one of their own, when before they were simply a little wooden marionette-puppet without strings and a lovely pet goldfish.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

The funeral was quiet even though just about everyone in Pariva came because Geppetto had been so beloved by all as a good friend or simple friendly acquaintance. Rather than someone playing a dirge on an organ during the funerary service, his saddest or most wistful music-box tunes tinkled their melancholy melodies; they thought, and Signorinas Cleo and Pinocchio had agreed, 'twas more fitting. Everyone was clad in mainly black or dark colors if not mauve or ash-grey, but occasionally there would be a pop of bright-ish color on one's dress or suit, or some lady, gentleman, or child would be wearing brighter shades, since such was allowed if the bereaved had been rather old and had lived a long mainly happy life, or simply did not wish to make their memorial a completely dour event if still rather somber.
Geppetto Tommaso had never spoken of how he wished for his own funeral to be conducted, but he had been such a kind and loving man even if his personal happiness was rather doused after dear Signora Constanza and Signorino Carlo had been killed that they felt in their innermost hearts and souls that this was what he would have wished. They could just hear him now- ~"I can't say 'no sad faces', but '*PER FAVORE*' no completely glum and dour clothes or tunes, no offense to church pipe organs. Think of it as a going-away party of sorts, once luncheon commences-!"~

The kindly woodcarver and toymaker was dressed in his Sunday best, with his spare pair of glasses on perched on his round peach-like nose, cleaned up, and looking as though he were merely sound asleep, he appeared so peaceful. Figaro's casket was already closed, but he too had been cleaned up as much as possible. Both of their funerary boxes were finely polished cherry wood rather than any kind of pine- it was considered too much of a cruel irony to use that kind of usual wood, since little Pinocchio had been originally carved out of a little log of white pine that had been planted over Carlo's and Constanza's graves. Also thought *VERY* BAD luck liable to bring some sort of curse down on the village- so the undertaker hadn't dared to even begin to entertain the thought! (Cherry, oak, or the like worked just as well, anyway.)
Geppetto's casket had been carved with designs of his many works intermingled with stars, faeries, his and his wife's favorite flowers, and a heart here and there- Figaro's had been decorated with etchings of mice, many different kinds of fish, birds, a couple of trees, and a bowl of cream.

Cleo was dressed in mauve mixed with grey, but Pinocchio, for all of her usual love of bright colors, was clad in black from her dress to her shoes, and it was both startling and unsettling along with *just plain HEARTBREAKING* to see Geppetto's sweet 'little woodenhead' or 'little princess' with her rosy cheeks ghost-white as the rest of her alabaster skin- dark circles surrounded her dulled, tear-stained, and reddened lovely blue orbs for eyes, and her sweet-lipped mouth was either set or quivering, same with her small slender body underneath her cotton and linen clothes of darkness, near-matching her sister who was also sickly-pale under her sugar-sprinkling of freckles as they lovingly yet desperately held one another's small delicate hands, Pinocchio's now-fingerless gloves just as black as her other garments. A woolen shawl draped over her head replaced any kind of ribbon or headband, and the only hint of brightness on her person was her broken silver locket hanging around her thin snowy neck and resting over her bleeding broken half-empty heart- Cleo now wearing its twin around her own neck where before it had graced Geppetto's as a gift for his younger daughter's eighth birthday.
She did not look in the least like the usual shy yet social vibrantly-colored butterfly child who flew about here and there often at her father's, sister's, cousins', or family cat's side right now. She looked instead a strange, desolate, almost grotesque yet tragically-lovely little figure, as Cleo was a more muted mermaid.

Much as she had loved Geppetto, her dear, sweet, gentle Father, however, she did not let the tears that she had mainly swallowed all day erupt until she and Cleo were completely alone, the both of them crying in an infant's endless wail on Father's bed under the covers until they'd wept themselves near to sleep.

"Cl-Cleo?" Pinocchio quavered with a sniffle as she cuddled even closer to her sister. "What's- What's gonna happen t' us n-now?"

Cleo let out a shaky breath while she gently tightened her own clinch before dropping a soft kiss onto Pinocchio's hair that was already in mourning as her own strawberry-gold locks were not. "I don't know, 'neonata'. I- just don't know. But I promise that I *will* take care of you for as long as I can, 'Nocchi. You'll have to help me out more with the chores, though, which I'm afraid means you won't have as much time to play as you did before, 'dolcezza'."

The elder girl's heart cracked at the brave trembling still-sweet smile sent her way, and she had to swallow down and fight back a new wave of tears. "That's- That's alright, so-'sorellena'! I- I kinda expected that, anyway. And- And it's not like I really have a lot 'f friends t' begin with; and- and Dafne n' Nina 'll more than understand, at least."

It made Cleo's blood boil hotter than a fiery sea that most of the children 'Nocchi's age *could NOT* -excuse her language- *BLOODY* LET GO of the fact that she had once been an 'unnatural' live little wooden stringless marionette who had tried to go to school with them, anymore than that horrid schoolmaster who had tried to SELL her sweet loving beautiful-inside-and-out little sister to a cruel abusive traveling puppet-master! Even though she was now flesh-blood-and-bone as they were, they STILL laughed at, taunted, mocked, and teased her- *BULLIED her* to the point where more often than not she came home with tears in her eyes that either Cleo or their father had tenderly wiped away if Figaro didn't get there first and licked them off while trying to also comfort her with his affection! Practically her only friends were their 'dolce cuginas' Dafne and Nina, a rowdy but more-or-less kind older redheaded and gangly freckled boy named 'Lampwick', a young brown-haired lad who often wore a sailor suit called 'Alexander', a blond girl who loved just about any and every shade of pink by the name of 'Sally', another golden-tressed pink-loving 'ragazza' named 'Renata', and her family- and her long-lost 'conscience' Jiminy Cricket whom Cleo had never really met any more than either girl had met their 'Zia/Tante' Adelaide, Father's own elder sister who lived in Paris, France and had used to be a famous opera singer there...

She mentioned none of this, however- only saying kindly as she stroked Pinocchio's kitten-soft semi-waves of raven-black hair, "'Si'- 'si'. They will. 'Lampy' might pout a bit alongside 'Xander', Sally, and Renata, but they'll more or less understand, too. *TRUE friends* do that, even if they might grumble and mutter about it."

Pinocchio just nodded quietly in response.

"-We should get some sleep in time for the ...will-reading tomorrow, 'fiorellina'. Would- Would you like me to sing Father's special song for you so it can help you sleep?"

"-'Si, per favore'?"

"Alright, sweet 'Nocchi-mine." And so Cleo began to gently sing Geppetto's originally happy ditty that he often softened and slowed for bedtime or when Pinocchio had had a rather bad day if not simply being sick or hurt (though this, thankfully, was rare) into her younger sister's small white shell of an ear while tenderly rocking her back-and-forth.

~"Happy little lass
With a feather in your cap;
Though they made you of wood,
You *NEVER* give a rap-
Always doing good
As a little puppet should,
Chasing each gloomy day away...

Little woodenhead with *eyes that shine*,
Little woodenhead that's made of pine-
In a weary world, you do your share:
Spreading LAUGHTER *EVERYWHERE*!

Funny little toy,
Go play your part;
Bring a little joy
To *EVERY heart*-!
*NEVER* let a single tear be shed,
My little woodenhead..."~

She hummed and crooned softly for a couple of stanzas as an instrumental break before finishing the song, Pinocchio now smiling very faintly and softly through her tears as a result of her sweet elder sibling's comfort and arms that held her safe and warm, lovingly cradling her just as Father had both herself and Cleo.

~"Little wooden feet,
And *BEST of all*,
A little wooden seat
In case you fall;
Little do you know,
And yet it's true,
That I'm *MIGHTY PROUD of you*...!

Funny little toy,
Go *play your part*-
Bring a little joy
To *EVERY* heart;
*NEVER* let a *single tear* be shed,
My little woodenhead...!

Woodenhead-
Woodenhead...

-*My little woodenhead*..."~

Then they both dropped off to sleep once the last note had floated from Cleo's rose-petal lips, exhausted and wrung-out from the last few days and today itself. And it was quite likely not going to get much easier from there. Cleo had been thinking occasionally of fully learning Father's trade so that she could continue on after him when he retired and until Pinocchio became old enough, but the accident that had claimed his and Figaro's lives had happened before she could even begin to discuss it with him.
Most likely, the shop would be turned over to and combined with Signor Lazardo's, as he was also a toymaker despite the men in his family having been *magicians* for generations. (The problem was that Lazardo could quite easily be called the world's *WORST* magician- and he would not disagree with you in *the LEAST* about it! Instead, he'd always loved to make children's toys same with Geppetto, who had been the son of a lutheir [instrument-maker] but had not quite enjoyed it despite his loving music...)

What would SHE do then, in order to make a living for herself and Pinocchio?? Could she take in laundry, perhaps? Assist the town seamstress and tailor in their work when they were swamped or just plain needed an extra hand? -Both, if needs be?
And knowing her 'dolce gentil sorellina', she too would be looking for a job in order to help Cleo out; most likely as an errand girl.

...Well, they would see how things turned out in the morning.

Both sisters were dressed in black today, Cleo wearing an ebony lace veil over her lovely face in addition while Pinocchio again donned her dark shawl, though this time loosely draping it over her small thin shoulders. Even Pinocchio's worst bullies shushed up and quieted down (mainly under threat of until-you-reach-maturity grounding from their parents or guardians if not elder siblings) as the girls passed down to Pariva's bank in order to hear the will-reading as commenced by Signor Rizzi, who was a lawyer as well as one of the few actual noblemen or women in the small Italian village. Lampwick wanted to dart over and give 'Slats' a big hug along with her sister, but Mama and Pop had cautioned him to wait- he didn't like it, but he'd respect their wishes and not disrupt what needed to be done, same with the others who weren't *idiotic JERKS* and actually wanted to get to know and be friends with the still-literal livin' doll.
When they were finished (whenever that was), THEN he'd rush on over and let 'Nocchi cry on his shoulder if need be while they practically squeezed the stuffing outta each other. Maybe if she had a little time, he'd take them both down to Signor Vito's to pet his horses and donkeys for a while. He'd heard from Ma once that animals helped considerably with grief, 'specially the furry kind; and takin' her to the cat cafe just opened two years ago felt a little too soon and mean. B'sides, she'd probably prefer to *go THERE* with her sister sometime, anyway...

-He DID, however, slip in quiet as a mouse or rat to *silently* be there for his best female friend. Hey- just b'cause he was mostly reformed thanks to 'Nocchi (and her just-as-sugar-sweet family save for her *BITCH* of a semi-Ma), Ma LaMuerte, and Pa Xibalba didn't mean that he was a complete and utter goody-two-shoes! There WAS a way to be still naughty but *NOT* 'bad' occasionally, Pa had once whispered to him; you just had t' be *REAL careful* about it...
And this was kinda one of them, as he was pretty darned sure that he was *NOT supposed to* be here.

He saw and heard Signor Rizzi kindly and quietly greet the Tommaso girls from the crack of spare wardrobe doors, and their greeting him back. They were sat down, offered some tea by Rizzi's married daughter who was visiting, and then after some polite yet sincere sad small talk, Mr. Geppetto's will was pulled out of a drawer in Rizzi's desk.

Basically, everything he'd owned had been left to his daughters, but Signor Lazardo would be taking over his toymaker business until the girls were of age. Then, they could decide whether to take it up themselves, let their pseudo-uncle continue to have it, or halve the business fifty-fifty. Signorina Cleo Erica Pelagia Belmagio-Tommaso would now be Pinocchio's guardian, but if she was somehow not able to do so, then his elder sister Adelaide Hermione Bandecca Bonfamille-Tommaso would be the one to take up the responsibility, as he wanted Cleo and Pinocchio to stay with family- no offense meant whatsoever to his dear friends. -And if neither of those two ladies were able to take up the task, then guardianship of Pinocchio Benjamina Seth Belmagio-Tommaso would go to her maternal aunt Chiara Evelina Belmagio; also known as 'the Blue Faerie'.

It seemed like it was all pretty much cut and dried save for how Miss Cleo was gonna make a livin' t' provide for herself and Slats, -but just as Signor Rizzi had finished speaking and was putting the will away back in its drawer, a bright sizzling red light surrounded Cleo ...and then vanished her away as she cried out her little sister's name!

Lampwick's horrified gasp was stuck in his throat, and he felt himself go white under his freckles while his tall lanky body flashed hot and cold at the same time as he heard 'Nocchi wail for Cleo and Signor Rizzi mutter an astonished and worried curse. But just before anything else could be done or said, another strangled scream fully escaped Lampwick's throat when the horrid sparklin' red light made a comeback b'fore disappearin'- and *THIS time*, with PINOCCHIO in tow!!

Either just now or after Pinocchio had become '*REAL-Real*', Ilaria Alberia Belmagio AKA the 'Scarlet Faerie' or 'Cleo del Mar the Crimson Nightingale of Esperia' had exacted another bit of revenge once Mr. Geppetto had shuffled off his mortal coil either naturally or no- tearing her unwanted only child away from someone else familiar and beloved. -Did that mean that 'Nocchi's 'zia' Lady Adelaide was also in *BIG* danger from a nasty grudge-holdin' faerie?? Would she try t' *cheat AGAIN* and tear both of Slats' aunts away from her, even...?

Lampwick didn't know, and that plus just plain sheer worry made him drop to his knees and bury his face in his hands as he practically brayed his sorrow and rage while cryin' his eyes out for his sweet little doll of a best friend. (It betrayed his hidin' place, but he. DIDN'T. *CARE*. Right now! And Signor Rizzi hadn't even been the least bit little angry, anyhow, when he discovered the 'stowaway' hidin' in his spare clothes-closet. He knew that Lampwick would keep his mouth shut about the details of the will, for all that he was a chatterbox...)

......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

It was another split-second thing: one moment, she was crying out for her sweet elder sister who had been magicked away for one reason or another by *'Madre dearest'*- and then, the very same thing had happened to her! She was whisked away from Pariva, Italy, to ...she didn't quite know where until she *just* spotted *the EIFFEL TOWER* amidst the leaves of the trees. *Paris*- she was now in *PARIS, FRANCE*!!
Paris, France, where hers' and Cleo's Aunt Adelaide lived...

She swallowed hard and bit down on her lower lip, trying to control herself and not burst into another wave of tears even though there was hardly anybody around on the quiet cobblestone street. Father would want her to be brave, after all- same with Zia Chiara! Yes, she was FAR AWAY from home like Dorothy Gale in 'The Wizard of Oz', and unlike aforementioned other young dark-haired girl, didn't even have an animal companion by her side- but she WAS *still here*, at least. That *HAD to* count for SOMETHING-!

Suddenly, she was brought out of her turmoiling thoughts by a frantic frightened squeaking and rowdy, *NASTY* boys' laughter just ahead in a small alley at the far end of it. She gritted her teeth, pursed her lips, and clenched her small hands into rock-solid fists. Either that was the sound of an animal in trouble, or a young 'bambino' in the same awful situation of being tormented by bullies, and she was gonna *put a stop to it* right now!

She picked up her skirts and ran like a goat-kid into the alley herself (of course watching for cars and horse-drawn carriages as she crossed the street), tying her shawl around her waist so that it wouldn't hamper her in the scuffle. Lampwick had taught her how to throw a good punch and whatnot, but she'd rarely fought herself before, not wanting to get into trouble. -Now, so to speak, *the gloves were OFF* outside of Pariva. No one knew her (yet), and NOBODY, much less a boy, wanted to admit that they'd been beaten by a *sweet little girl*!

"*HEY*!! You three!" she shouted angrily at the scruffy street-boys, one of whom was a freckled redhead like Lampy. "Stop throwin' stones at and tormentin' that poor little kid!"

"Ain't *a KID*, you sissy silly little girl playin' Widow insteada 'Bride'! S' just a dumb nasty little mouse! Y' gotta get rid 'f *VERMIN*, after all, or you'll get sick an' die like the rats did with the Black Plague!"

'It was *the FLEAS* that caused all the trouble, you- you- *DUNDERHEADS*!' "A *mouse*??! An innocent small animal!? That's *even WORSE*! I *SAID*, *stop throwin' those stones*!!
"*Leave him or her ALONE*!!! What've they ever *REALLY done t' ya*, you big bullies??!" Pinocchio yelled, her big blue eyes blazing chained lightning from her pale face and dark eye-circles as she advanced toward the boys.

"*AMSCRAY*, you little goody-two-shoes tattle-tale idiot!!" the redhead snarled, reaching out to give her a good shove into the wall.

But puppet or 'Real Girl', Pinocchio was too quick for him. She ducked out of the way of his grubby hands- and then whirled around herself, launching a hard overhand right into his dirt-speckled mug that knocked him straight to the ground.
"*Alright*!" she snarled like an angry kitten while standing protectively in front of the little grey mouse who was thankfully not much hurt and posing herself in a 'put-'em-up' way. "*Who's NEXT*??"

A dark-haired sallow-faced chap mockingly touched his cap-brim as he sidled on over. But before he could begin to 'teach her a lesson', Pinocchio swung a roundhouse punch at him. She missed, but didn't the next few, whirling him to the ground as well in a whirlwind of right and left hooks that landed him in an empty trash can.

"-*Anybody ELSE*?? No? Then *get LOST*, you mean jerks!"

The boys whimpered like beaten dogs and scrambled upward before running off with their metaphorical tails hanging between their legs, their unhurt companion following after. They didn't wanna stay and be smeared further into the pavement by a crazy little beast of a girl! 'Non, merci'!!

Once they were gone, Pinocchio heaved a sigh and rubbed at her slightly sore knuckles before bending down in front of the little mouse and offering him a sweet friendly smile. "Hey- hey, now. S' okay, 'piccolo amico'. It's alright! *YOU'RE alright*- those mean nasty boys who were bullyin' ya are gone, and I don't think they'll be comin' back," she murmured gently and kindly.
"Poor thing- did they hurt ya, at all?"

"No, no- I'm more or less fine, 'madamoiselle'. They *TRIED TO hurt me*, those little hooligans-! But much like you, I was more often than not too quick for them- *OUCH*!
"They *did* get my tail, though. Ohhhh, this is going to slow down my scurrying *by A LOT*; I hope it's not broken...!"

The mouse's voice was high, reedy, quivery, and raspy all at once- however, it wasn't in the least *UN-pleasant* to the ear, having something of a musical quality as well. His eyes were two jet beads, but they shone with intelligence and kindness.

"Oh, dear; I'm awful sorry, 'signor'! May I please check to see that it's not broken?"

The mouse squeaked and jumped in shock at the young dark-swathed and dark-haired girl's *actually responding* to his words, and not just hearing squeaks, squeals, churrs, and chitters when he talked. "'*Sacre bleu*'!!!" he coughed, pounding his little lighter-grey chest with his tiny black paw. "You- You can- *You can UNDERSTAND me*??"

"*Uh-huh*!" Pinocchio nodded with a sunshine smile.

Clearly, he dearly wanted to ask *HOW* such was possible, -but decided not to. (Not yet, anyway.) "W-Well, if- if you're offering... then, if you'd please?"

So Pinocchio gently took a hold of the mouse's long thin black tail and carefully looked it over. "-It's not broken, 'Signor Maus', but it's still probably gonna be awful sore for a bit."

"-Well, that's *MUCH better* than broken, at least. *Oh, BOTHER*! I do apologize, mam'zelle; I momentarily forgot my manners! My name is 'Roquefort'."

"Pleased t' meet ya, Mr. Roquefort!" Pinocchio said sweetly, carefully shaking the little paw that he held out to her. "My name is 'Pinocchio'."

"...You wouldn't happen to be Madame Bonfamille's *niece*, would you?? Her younger one?"

"-Si, signor. I would."

"Well, I just so happen to live in her house (though I have to be *VERY* *VERY careful* not to be seen by sneaky crooked Edgar and hoity-toity Elvira), which is just a little aways from here. She got a letter from a Mr. Geppetto who's her younger brother a week ago, saying that if something ever happened to him or his elder daughter her sister, then Madame was to take care of his younger child."
Roquefort suddenly took in Pinocchio's dark attire that seemed *UN-usual* for some reason, and how very pale and dark-eyed to a point she was. -Were her eyes also a little red, as though she'd been crying for some time?? "...Oh, dear me. He- He passed on, didn't he?"

Pinocchio's next "-Uh-huh" was more weak and watery, and it along with the heartbreak in her sweet blue orbs for eyes *HURT* Roquefort's soul to the quick.

"-I'm so sorry, Mam'zelle Pinocchio! *VERY sorry*! How- How did you get here to Paris? Train? Boat?"

She flicked her fingers gently, and a few colorful sparkles drifted around them briefly before disappearing into thin air.

Roquefort blinked hard, rubbed at his eyes, and pinched himself. When he didn't wake up from a strange dream, he ekked out weakly, "-*Well*! I s'pose that explains why you can actually hear me... Witch, fairy, or something else?"

She held up two fingers before mouthing 'mother's side of family'.

She seemed even more sad and heartbroken when she said that; was her 'maman' gone too, or did they just plain not get along?? But Roquefort also didn't ask those kinds of questions- none of his beeswax!
He only patted her hand gently and said in the same tone of voice, "C'mon, young one. If you'll please put me in some kind of pocket, I'll direct you right to Madame's. She'll look after you, -if Duchess doesn't get there first!"

Pinocchio sniffled and swallowed, wiping at her eyes. "O-Okay, Mr. Roquefort." Then she gently scooped him up and put him into her dress pocket after standing up and dusting off her clothes.

Before he gave her directions, however... "By the way- thank you very much for saving my life back there. They may say that girls aren't supposed to fight, but *PHOOEY* I say to that; ladies, I think, *CAN start* fights and FINISH THEM, if there's an absolute need!"

"You're- You're welcome, Mr. Roquefort. I can't- I *can't STAND* when someone's bein' awful mean, and Lampy -my best friend- taught me how t' fight in case I had t' defend myself."

"Well, I do truly appreciate it, my dear."

Chapter Text

"*Mama*!! MAMA! '*Mere*'!"

Oliver Giuseppe Lawrence Bonfamille twitched and flicked his ginger ears while raising his head in surprise alongside his mother and two other siblings, who were just having an 'easy' day (Mama didn't like saying 'lazy') while lying together on a cushioned windowseat in the sunshine, making them feel comfortably drowsy and near-sleepy. -That is, until something very strange and worrisome caused them to suddenly snap wide-awake and fully aware of their surroundings: Toulouse Matisse Henri Bonfamille, the eldest, bravest, and most easy-going of Duchess Eva Roberte Bonfamille's litter of four kittens, was FRANTICALLY and *FEARFULLY* calling for their mother while running in the hallway, and he was *practically NEVER* scared!! *Oliver and Berlioz*, if not Marie, were more likely to become frightened of something strange and unusual (which more often than not caused no small amount of teasing from their elder siblings, if not their inate sweetness)!

The other ginger kitten's little sharp toenails scrabbled on the hardwood floor if not muffled by the fine woolen carpets, his beryl-green eyes wide and terrified instead of twinkling with happy playful mischief and good humor as their usual in his little round face as he dove for his mama's silken-soft warm comforting side, whimpering and shaking. Oliver's warm little heart flooded with worry and concern over his eldest sibling, something he saw mirrored in Berlioz Hector Deangelo's blue-green eyes from his own dark features either dark grey or black depending on the light and Marie Elizabeth Antonietta's pretty face. Duchess instantly began to purr soft and sweet in an attempt at comfort alongside grooming his face, ears, and back.

"'Mon bebe- mon tresor'," she crooned in her elegant gentlewomanly yet sweetly-maternal French-accented voice in his ear, "what is the matter, Toulouse my love?? What has frightened my brave little 'monstre' so; 'mon' tough little alley-cat? Hmm?"

It took a good few minutes for normally-unflappable Toulouse to calm down, gasping out the moment he could draw in breath again, "'*Fantome*'! *'FANTOME', Mama*! *There's a 'FANTOME' in the house!"

"'*C'est IMPOSSIBLE*', Tu-Tu!" Marie sniffed and scoffed with a toss of her pretty head as snowy-white as their Mama's own lovely one and a flick of her tail. "This is not a haunted house, for all that it's old."

"*I'm not makin' it up, Marie*!" Toulouse cried out, still shaking a bit even though his frightened tears had been dried off and licked/kissed away. "I *SAW her*! She was *REAL pale* with black circles surroundin' her eyes, and dressed all in black from head t' foot- even *her HAIR* was 'noir'! And she looked *real SAD*, too- like a really young widow...!"

Oliver was not too fond of 'fantomes' any more than 'Berly', but he was still skeptical. He didn't think that their brother was LYING, or making up a story as a practical joke, -but something still felt *OFF* to Toulouse's fearful recounting of what he had just seen that made him dart for the safety of his mama's 'lap'.
"Was she glowin' real bright or faintly? Not just pale, but *white as white*, too?? Did she say anything t' you- moan, groan, cry, wail, or say that she was searching for someone and wouldn't stop until they were reunited?"

Toulouse pouted at Oliver, also glaring over at Marie when she snickered to herself. "I'm NOT *fibbin'*, Ollie; *SWEAR* I'm NOT!"

"Hey- *no fair*! He didn't say or imply that you were, 'frere aine' (big brother)!" Berlioz protested, standing up for his younger 'twin'. "He's just tryin' t' get to the bottom of it like Basil Sherringford of Baker Street or Sherlock Holmes!"

"Now, now, darlings- let's not bicker so," Duchess crooned kindly yet sternly. "And Marie Elizabeth Antonietta, snarky laughter towards your brother is not at all kind; *mind*, now!"

"Yes, Mama," Marie subsided. "Sorry, Tu-Tu."

"I really *DID see her*, and she *SCARED* me!" Toulouse whimpered, hardly acknowledging his sister's apology. "*There*- SEE?? M' not *ALWAYS brave*; go right on ahead and call me a 'scaredy-cat'...!"

Oliver didn't like seeing Toulouse so frightened- then again, he didn't like to see *ANYONE in his family* uneasy, scared, sad, or hurt, including Roquefort the mouse who was neither a pet nor a 'pest', Frou-Frou the kindly matron of a horse, Madame, and Madame's dear friend Georges Haucorte. (He *NEVER* said this ALOUD, but he *did NOT* count Edgar the kiss-up butler and/or Elvira the snooty sniffy maid, having had a nasty slimy feeling about them -especially Edgar- ever since he could vaguely remember.) So he decided to hopefully put paid to his eldest sibling's fears, though he himself couldn't help but tremble and stammer a little.
"I'll- I- I'll g-go an' see what you did, 'Louse. May-Maybe she just *LOOKS LIKE a 'fantome'* b'cause she's so very sad and also dressed in black and real pale with dark circles around her eyes..."

"-'Oui'. Yes; you go on ahead and do just that, my little Oliver Twist," Duchess approved with a loving and proud mewl. "Go and see who our young 'fantome' is, and if she is here for a visit or otherwise. Toulouse, sweetheart, did you see anything else about her- this dark-haired and dark-clad snow-pale girl?"

"Either didn't see, or really paid much actual attention!" Toulouse squeaked, burrowing further into Duchess' moire side. "*Didn't WANNA*! I just yelped an' ran away to find you!"

'*Good luck*, "frere"!' Berlioz communicated with his teal/aqua eyes locking with Oliver's a deep blend of amber-orange/brown and jade-green instead of either sapphire-blue, peridot-green, or aquamarine like the rest of his siblings and their mother. (He was also the only kitten of Duchess' litter with stripes and eye circles- three darker than the rest of his 'main' ginger-orange pelt, and the latter matching his muzzle, chest, and belly fur.) 'You're gonna *NEED* it...'

Oliver swallowed hard and ekked out a tiny scared 'mew' himself, but then squared and threw his small shoulders back, thrust his chest out a little, and walked out the door of Madame's suite-room as calmly and confidently as he was able to into the hallway. If he'd been wearing a collar with a tag or a little bell rather than a simple indigo silk ribbon tied into a loose bow at the right side of his neck, the license or carillon would have jingled and tinkled like a tintinnabulum of courage as he followed the sudden slow, melancholy, *HEARTBROKEN* (*SHATTERED, even*) music being played on the piano whom Toulouse's mysterious frightening 'fantome' began to soon sing softly, sadly, and wistfully-lovingly along with.

~"Where has *the STARLIGHT* gone??
DARK is *the DAY*-
How can I find
*My way home*...??

'Home' is an EMPTY DREAM-
*LOST* to *the NIGHT*!
Father, I feel
*So alone*...

You PROMISED *you'd BE THERE*
*Whenever I needed you*!
Whenever I *call YOUR NAME*,
You're NOT *anywhere*-!
I'm *TRYING* *to HOLD ON*-
Just WAITING to *hear your voice*!
*ONE word*- *just a word* will do
To END *this NIGHTMARE*...!

WHEN will *the dawning break*,
Oh *ENDLESS NIGHT*??!
Sleepless, I dream
Of the day

When you were *by my side*,
Guiding my path;
*Father- Sister*, *I CAN'T*
*Find THE WAY*...!

*You PROMISED* you'd BE THERE
*Whenever* I *NEEDED you*!!
Whenever I *call your names*,
*You're NOT* *ANYWHERE*-!
*I'm TRYING* to HOLD ON;
Just *waiting* *to HEAR YOUR VOICE*!
*One word*- JUST *a WORD* will do
To *END* this nightmare..."~

No 'fantome' of filmy white ectoplasm with a suggestion of color in life- though given her appearance and *how SAD* she was, Oliver could admit how Toulouse had mistaken this flesh-blood-and-bone young girl clad in simple yet fine-enough black garments from head to foot (though her just-as-dark hair was uncovered rather than near-hidden by a 'widow's' bonnet) for a lost lonely wandering spirit, she was so very thin and pale as well as quite plainly in mourning for one or two people whom she had loved very much. To Oliver's mind, were she out of 'mourning weeds' and her loved ones alive and here, she would have instead been dressed in bright vibrant colors and displaying a sweet genuine smile while singing, dancing, laughing, and playing, her pretty cheeks rosy and her bright blue orbs for eyes sparkling like stars- altogether like a beautiful little wooden girl-doll or stringless marionette puppet come to life.

And now, as her tune became just a little more hopeful, the very faintest sweet loving smile played about her lips, *just barely* reaching up to her eyes and causing them to glow slightly- like stars through a nighttime fog or mist. -Roquefort, he suddenly saw with a surprised jerk, was seated on the arms of one of Madame's chairs and quietly listening; had she actually been a spirit, he would have been terrified too, and darted away into his mouse-hole, crouching and trembling!

~"I know that *the NIGHT* must END,
And that *the sun will rise*-
And that the sun WILL *RISE*...
I know that the CLOUDS *must CLEAR*,
And that the *SUN* will *shine*;
And that *the SUN* will SHINE...

I know that the night *must END*,
And that the SUN *will rise*-
And that the *SUN* *will RISE*...!
I know that *the clouds* must CLEAR,
And that *the SUN* will *SHINE*;
*And that the sun will shine*...!

*I KNOW*-
Yes, I *know*
The SUN will *SHINE*...!
I KNOW!
*Yes- I KNOW*
*The clouds must clear*...!

I KNOW that *the NIGHT* must *END*-
*I know that the sun will rise*,
And I'll *hear YOUR VOICE* DEEP INSIDE-!

*I KNOW* that The Night *must end*,
-And that the CLOUDS must *CLEAR*!
*The sun will rise*...!

The SUN-
*The SUN* *will rise*...!"~

She played another instrumental, and then let her fingers rest as well as her voice, which even singing sadly was light as a dove's feather and sweet as honey. Roquefort clapped lightly, but Oliver was too dumbfounded and struck further numb with sympathy mixed with awe to give any sort of applause himself from where he hid behind another chair, which now that he thought about it was- a bit- dusty...

"Ah-*achoo*!!" the tabby-striped ginger kitten sneezed. He gave so hard and forceful a 'gesundheit' that it sent his little furry feline body tumbling forward over the carpeted floor, under the piano that Berly often played himself, and finally landing at the dark-clad doll-girl's feet dangling above him.

Shyness and more than a bit of nervousness and fear overtook Oliver once more, and he mewled apprehensively while looking up at her with big pleading kitten eyes. What if she was like he *just KNEW* Edgar and Elvira (though, mostly Edgar) were, more than sweet kind lovely Madame when it came to 'felis cattus'?? Just b'cause she sang prettily and was real sad and seemed nice enough didn't mean that she was ACTUALLY a living doll as well as *looking like* one, after all...!

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

But the youngest Bonfamille kitten's fears were unfounded- which meant, in turn, that his eldest sibling's own fears were all for naught. He was gifted with a genuinely sweet sunshine smile that reached her eyes that were as kind and blue as Madame's from underneath a flop of silken-soft bangs as black and shiny as The Raven's wings and rest of his-or-her plumage as she got up off of her seat and knelt/crouched down so as to be as close to his height as she could get and not seem frightening or threatening while holding one small fingerlessly-gloved hand palm-out. She clearly wanted to pet him, but was more than willing to let him approach her first and sniff at her fingertips.

"-Hello, there," she near-whispered in a tone as sweet as her singing voice. "You're one of Tante/Zia Adelaide's cats, aren't ya? She was SO *HAPPY* when she wrote Father about her 'Duchess' havin' *FOUR kittens*, and from there told him all 'bout you 'n your siblings 's well as your mama whenever they exchanged and received letters from one another! And in turn, Father told me an' Cleo -that's my big sister, and she's awful sweet!- what she had relayed to him via ink and paper...
"She said that your names were 'Toulouse Matisse Henri', 'Marie Elizabeth Antonietta', 'Berlioz Hector Deangelo', and 'Oliver Giuseppe Lawrence', r'spectively -but I'm afraid that I don't quite recall whom is whom. No collar-collar, and no name-tags either... *Hmmm*- Is it one, two, three, or four for you, 'piccolo amico o amica'??"

"F-Fo-Four. I'm- I'm 'Oliver'. B-Bon- 'Bonne apres-midi, mademoiselle' (Good afternoon, miss)! But- But SURELY, it's *ladies first*...?"

"Well, 'si'- yes. *Usually*... but sometimes, 's just simply th' other way around, I guess!
"How d' ya do, 'Signorino' Oliver? How are your mamma and siblings? How is- H-How is 'Zia/Tante' Adelaide doin', after-?? A-Af-After- well..."

Oliver didn't reply in full at first, instead meowing so loudly while jumping backward with his back-fur raised in startled surprise and tail puffed out that it was almost a yowling screech that surely had sent 'Mere' running and ready to defend her youngest baby, if she'd heard it! Then he stammered with dark hazel eyes wide-blown in a face ash-pale underneath his titian fur, "You- Y-You can... -*You can TALK TO US*???! T-Talk to my mama, my brothers and sister, Roquefort, Miss Frou-Frou, and me, I mean?? *ACTUALLY talk to us*??!"

"That *she CAN*, young Oliver!" Roquefort piped up from his chair-seat as his jet-bead eyes twinkled kindly down at the other stunned-silly ginger-furred Bonfamille kitten. "She's part Fae on her mother's side, y' see; and that's why. But she's really very sweet and nice- you don't hafta be afraid of her, nor Toulouse, or the rest of your family! I mean, '*sacre bleu*'; she SAVED *my life* earlier from some nasty hooligan boys who would have *KILLED me* b'cause they believed than I was 'nothing but filthy vermin' that would bite people and make 'em sick to the point where they *DIED*!
"Boy, can she throw *one HECK* of a punch-!"

"...Mama would say that that's unladylike," Oliver couldn't help but mumble. "Or... would she, considerin' it saved ya, Roquefort? Are you alright??"

"Fine, fine- just fine and dandy save for a slightly sore tail when one of their rock-edges clipped it. *Hmph*!! BAD form, that- *VERY* *BAD form*...!"

Oliver wrestled his courage back into non-submission while taking in Pinocchio's gentle assuring azure eyes and kind smile, and sensing nothing but pure heart-warmth and sweetness from her. He sniffed at her fingertips, then nuzzled them while emitting a soft shaky purr and letting her caress and stroke him- and her touch was just as gentle, kind, and sweet; *respectful*, even. Just like Madame's...

He also sharply recalled *his MANNERS*. "H-Hello, Pinocchio. I- I guess- I guess 'm doin' well enough, same with my family. Mada- Madame was really sad when she got *THE letter* that wasn't from her brother, but- but she says that w-we're a great healin' help and comfort to her; so- so I s'pose she's kinda doin' a bit better."

"-You're kinda awful shy at times; aren't ya? S' okay- so 'm I. But I PROMISE that *one-hundred-and-ten-percent, most honestly-honest, truthiest truthiness ever*, you have *NOTHIN'* t' fear *from ME*, Oliver 'mio piccolo amico'!
"I- I *LOVE* cats, just- just like Father did, and I would NEVER EVER *HURT one* even if they happened to be an 'innocent' black cat or a witch's tabby familiar! Didja know that in some parts 'f the world, black cats are considered t' be *GOOD luck* instead of 'bad'??"

Well, she would *ADORE* Berly then, besides his being just a real nice and gentlemanly 'aristocat' kitten on the whole! "-No; *nope*! I didn't, Mam'zelle Pinocchio."

Her kindly laughter was both the adorable squeak of a mouse and a merry jingling/tinkling/chiming of silver Christmas bells. "You an' the rest 'f your family and Mr. Roquefort too can just call me 'Nocchi', if you like; I know my whole name's kinda *a MOUTHFUL*, an' then some...!"

Oliver responded to the friendship branch being extended by nimbly and trustingly leaping up in/onto Pinocchio's lap once she fully sat down on the floor- also by 'mrrp'-ing and rubbing the top and side of his head against the palm of her hand, begging politely for more pets, which she more than readily gave him to Roquefort's cheek-clasped "-*Awww*...!" But before he let himself dissolve into contented and happy purrs, he made sure to interject, "You can- You can call me 'Ollie' now n' then if you want to. My- My brothers and sister do- Mama not really so much."

And *speaking of* aforementioned mother and siblings, he noticed just out of the corner of his eye from the living/music-room doorway...

"*THERE*! *See*?? It's a REAL LIVE girl, silly Tu-Tu! You big scaredy-cat when you're *NOT usually*...!"

"-*Fine*. Okay, alright; I WAS *being SILLY*, and stu-,"

"Now, Toulouse 'fils' (son)- you *WELL know* that I do not like when any of 'mon chatons' uses that word willy-nilly.
"-A little 'silly'? 'Oui'- perhaps. But *EVERYONE* gets scared now and then- even mamas, EVEN *kings and queens*! I would not call that ....'stupid'."

%"*Yes, Mama*..."%

"But WHO *IS she*??? Why is she here, in Madame's house??"

"-I think that she's Madame's niece; the one that looks like a pretty wooden doll come to life and has a funny-soundin' name that's Italian rather than French 'cause that's where she lives ...or *USED TO live* now, I guess."

"...Her daddy died about a week ago, didn't he? Madame got a black-banded letter sealed with a white angel wing, and after she finished reading it, she cried and cried *for DAYS* (and nights, too), and she's only just stopped except late at night when she's in bed..."

"'Oui, ma bijou fee'. I am afraid that is all too right."

"-She's got a big sister, doesn't she?? A pretty girl with head-fur the color 'f mine and Oliver's whole fur but more princess-gold in it, deeper more dark blue eyes, freckles, slightly pinker skin, and a more- 'willowy' figure; looks like a mermaid-turned-human? *Where's SHE*?? Shouldn't she be here too, with Mam'zelle 'Poupee Vivante', Mama?"

"...I do not have an answer in whole for *THAT one*, 'mon artiste fougueux' (my feisty artist). Perhaps- Perhaps ...something has happened to her, as well, though I do not know what. Madame's letter only told of *SIGNOR GEPPETTO'S passing* due to a tragic accident- same with *THEIR family cat* Monsieur Figaro..."

"-It's kind of rare for Monsieur Georges to visit, now; and much as Madame loves us and cares for us, she still gets rather lonely for *HUMAN companionship*. She seems quite sweet and ladylike -just in a different way than myself. (I *PROMISE* I didn't mean it as *an INSULT*, 'Maman'! I DO *know better than that*...!) It'll be nice to have another *FE-male* around the house who can come INTO the house as Ms. Frou-Frou cannot; 'oui', Mama?"

"I have to admit, Marie 'ma cherie', -it *WOULD be* rather lovely to have another 'fille' in the family. And that was very kind and truly lady-like of you, to think of dear lonely Madame-!"

"...I guess it wouldn't be so or too bad. I mean, *Ollie and Roquefort* already like her; so, surely, MADAME will *LOVE her*!"
'And she seems more kind of a "humble" sort of sweet and ladylike- not the least little bit BOSSY, *PRISSY*, or *spoiled* *like SOME* sisters I could mention... She looks like she could actually be a lot 'f *fun*!'

'She looks an awful lot like she *MORE THAN understands* what it's like t' be left out and made fun of for one way or another *bein' DIFFERENT* from your siblings or peers- like Ollie and I... And I don't know WHY *EXACTLY*, but I can sense (and more than likely Ollie has, as well) that long ago she lost a very dear "ami" who she still loves very much and misses like nobody's business- *OUCH*!!'
"I think that we all *need HER* just as much as she *NEEDS* *us*, Mama..."

"-'Oui'. Yes. *SCRATCH* 'I do believe'! You *ARE right* in that, 'mon doux musicien espiegle' (my sweet mischievous musician) Berlioz; the poor usual-'colibri lutin' (hummingbird-elf) is so very lonesome and heartsick it almost *HURTS* to look at her...!"

Any smart or funny comments Toulouse had concerning Pinocchio's name, he politely kept to himself; same with Marie (who admittedly wrinkled her pink nose just a bit when saying it the first couple of times aloud). They were as much of a little gentleman and lady as one could please- as much of a respective 'monsieur' and 'dame' as their other younger brother and mother were. Berlioz, too, leapt up for a lap-snuggle and cuddle once he'd sniffed, nuzzled, and licked 'Nocchi's fingers; and soon, she had *quite the lapful* of 'gattinos'/'chatons' when all four of them ended up there while Duchess simply sat sedately by her side!

There was no pushing, shoving, squirming, or fighting this time, however; the siblings were quite content to share. (Being rather a peacemaker, Oliver mainly chose to stay out of the scuffling squabbles, but sometimes *he WOULD* be dragged into them, poor thing!) Besides, it had been a while since they'd all literally been in a kitten-pile outside of bedtime when they were curled up beside Mama! What better time to catch up that way than via a sweet kind cat-loving new 'ami'??

Madame, or 'Aunt Addy', thought that the sight was quite sweet and adorable when she came down to greet her niece herself and give her a big warm hug that led to a bit more of crying on each other's shoulders as they mourned their loved ones lost whether from quite near or sadly afar. Edgar and Elvira cooed warmly themselves outwardly- but *SNEERED* on the inside while scowling fiercely.

'*GAH*!!! *Bad ENOUGH* I have to deal with Madame Hoity-Toity and her pampered spoiled-rotten fur-brats; now, *her sickly-sweet NIECE* has been added to the picture!! At this rate, she'll *NEVER* give m- either of us *ANY OF her fortune* in her will, when eventually comes time to make it! *BEYOND insulting* enough when 'twould have simply been her *CATS*- but now, this is just *rubbing salt into the wound*...!!'

'"*Mon Dieu*', but she eez an *UGLY leetle thing*, wiz zat strange weird NOSE of hers zat eez *so out of place* wiz 'er doll-face and -BLAH!! admittedly *lovely* black 'air- not to mention *zose BEEG BLUE EYES* and petite slender body...! *I* am *MUCH prettier* zan SHE; for I am *CLASSIC*, *and CLASSY*! Whereas SHE *eez absolutely NOT*...!
'*HOW* deed 'er fazer *NOT become* DISAPPOINTED in her??!! 'Tis a *pretty lovely face* -a *CLASSIC face*- zat catches and captures a man's attention, after all; we *ALL* KNOW zis! -Deed *he NOT*...?? -Well zen, eef so, *more fool for him zat 'e was*, I say!'

Chapter Text

"'Nocchi 'cheri'- there is something that I must discuss with you, even though such things will not truly come into, ah- 'dress rehearsal' and 'opening night' until the time of Mourning has passed in full, and not for a couple of years, at least."

Pinocchio blinked, furrowed her brow, and lightly ran her small white teeth over her bottom lip as she pulled herself away from her book. She sat up a little straighter and looked right at Zia Adelaide once she'd marked her place and set the novel on the small table beside her chair- Oliver laid on her lap and Berlioz curled up at one side also perking their ears and lifting their own furry little heads, appearing as equally-attentive as possible. She loved ALL of Zia Adelaide's feline pets equally, but 'Ollie' and 'Berly' had become her constant companions due to their matching shyness and quiet sweet natures; Marie, for all that she too was a girl, could sometimes be a little too bossy and prissy for Pinocchio's liking (not that she ever said or even implied so, of course), while Toulouse reminded her occasionally painfully of Lampwick- boisterous, playful, and easy-going/laid-back; a tough little boy with a heart of gold...
'Signora' Duchess, meanwhile, was like another aunt, if not a semi-mother figure.

"'Si', Zia Adelaide?" she murmured quietly yet just loud enough to be heard. "What is it that you need to speak to me about?"

'Madame', as she was mainly known by the Bonfamille cats, sighed softly as she set down her intricate needlework on her lap, blue eyes meeting and locking with blue eyes. She would have liked to wait until either 'slight' or *HALF-mourning*- but, alas. Such was not truly possible, or advised.
"My dear girl- my sweet loving niece... You have mainly been raised as a woodcarver's daughter, the same as your elder sister Cleo. But now, you are part of a noble household, and therefore must from this point forth be educated as such. I shall not send you away to finishing school, darling- for one thing, you are FAR *too YOUNG*, and secondly, you have been moved suddenly enough in your life as is; and especially *RECENTLY*! But you shall still have a governess who will instruct you in a more-or-less thorough knowledge in the art of music, singing, dancing, drawing, painting, modern languages, sewing, needlepoint, penmanship, fine manners, and how to one day run your own household alongside the usual intellectual school-lessons."

Pinocchio swallowed and went a bit pale, now lightly *biting* her lower lip while almost methodically stroking Oliver's back and head. -Of course; she should have figured that sooner or later, THIS would come into play! She just hadn't expected to happen so soon, given what had tragically transpired in her life... Though, she had to ask- "I- I thought that bl-'blue-stocking' girls were- were considered *UN-feminine* and *off-putting*; e-especially where *NOBLE 'signorine' (young ladies)* were/are concerned??"

Madame Adelaide's firm statement was softened by the slight kind smile dancing over her lips and tender affection shining from her own baby-blues. "NOT in *THIS household*, Pinocchio Benjamina Seth Belmagio-Tommaso-Bonfamille. I see no problem whatsoever with a girl, young lady, or woman grown nourishing and entertaining her mind alongside the art of keeping house and 'show business', if you will; and to a point, neither did Geppy's and my mother, 'Dieu' rest her soul!
"-Another thing, 'chaton': when you feel up to it and/or wish to take it up again, you are more than welcome to craft and paint wooden clocks, music-boxes, toys, and figurines if you like. *NOTHING* 'wrong' with a *FE-male* taking up whittling/woodwork, *I* say...!"

Pinocchio weakly smiled back at that last. "Th-Thank you, 'Zietta'. M-Maybe a little later- in- in time."

"*Of COURSE*- of course, darling. *In time*; not just yet...!"

"Do- Do you already have someone in mind, Zia Adelaide?"

"-Well, Pinocchio love ...your *OTHER aunt* does, apparently. 'Zia Chiara', I believe? Your mother's older sister by two years? Well, she wrote to me a letter that I received just this morning, and within it she recommended a dear friend of hers' by the name of 'Lady Nova Meissa'. She wrote that this 'Nova' was quite the lady, but not in an off-putting, cold, or stiff way- and 'tis the same with her paramour former princess and now stable-mistress Regina Mills, just more regal and imperial."

Another hard swallow that was almost a gulp as her heart beat hard and fast against her breastbone near-painfully. "You- You don't-? Y-You *DON'T* at all m-mind that M-Miss Nova and Miss R-Regina are both- *both female*, yet al-also 'gli amanti' (lovers)/one another's beloved??" she just managed to ekke out through a dry tightened throat.

"'Ma cher enfant' (My dear child), I quite pride myself on behaving and thinking akin to a forward-thinking woman; and I myself am what many would be consider to be 'abnormal', as I have *NO interest* *WHATSOEVER* in- shall we say, courting, marriage, and bedroom relations. I *NEVER* have- *not once*! 'Tis why I have never married, and become a 'fur mama' rather than a HUMAN 'madre'.
"Georges is a dear, sweet, kind 'ami'; my *BEST friend*, even (my best HUMAN friend, that is)- but that is *ALL* he is to me, for all that he is rumored to be my 'paramour' alongside."

So... NOT such a 'freak' where family was concerned, still- even in this strange new place. That was ONE burden off of her shoulders and back, at least! But such a topic further could be discussed another day or night. For now...
"When will my new tutresses arrive, 'zietta'?"

"Tomorrow mid-morning, I do believe. 'Tis merely an educated guess, but somehow, I feel I am not wrong."

"-Alright, then. I'll- I'll make sure that I'm ready to meet them, Zia Addy."

"'Merci', darling. -Well, now; shall we have our afternoon tea? I'm quite sure that I smelled cinnamon cookies baking earlier, and Victorian *CHOCOLATE sponges* being sandwiched with blackberry jam today alongside ham, goat cheese, and asparagus and mini salmon croquette sandwiches and scones with clotted cream. Your favorites, yes?"

*ONE thing* besides a love of singing, dancing, and acting (though mostly *singing* on Ilaria Belmagio's part) that she had in common with her semi-mother alongside Zia Chiara- a fondness for cinnamon cookies, chocolate, and blackberry jam. And at least she'd had *a LITTLE* practice when it came to playing an instrument, sewing and embroidery, ballroom dancing, cuneiform, fine visual arts, a smattering of French, Spanish, Norse, and German, and 'domestic duties' with Zia Chiara and/or her big sister Cleo- with their cousins (technically *GRAND-cousins*, but semantics!) Dafne and Nina Belmagio and/or 'Nocchi's girl-friends Renata, Sally, and Miss Fabiana's own pretty marionette girl-turned-*REAL girl* Sabina occasionally joining her when she was not being academically tutored by either 'Zietta Chia' or Signor Rizzi- so hopefully, she would not be *too much* of a wet-behind-the-ears halfwit to her new 'schoolmarms! *ESPECIALLY* the one called 'Regina Mills' who was apparently said to be quite the regal noblewoman...

"'Si', Zia Adelaide."

"-*Oh*! And a bowl of cream lightly sweetened with honey each as well as filleted salmon, tuna, and catfish for our feline family members, of course! Mustn't *forget THAT*!"

"No- no. 'F course not..."

Madame saw how very nervous and worried her humble-born niece was. After all, she had come from a town that was not exactly what one would call 'wealthy', and while her father was *HALF-noble* on 'Grand-mere's' side of the family, *her MOTHER* was a younger baker's daughter for all that she had soon become a beloved famous opera star! She smiled kindly and gently held and patted 'Nocchi's small fingerlessly-gloved hand as they sat down to 'the de l'apres-midi' with dear Duchess, Toulouse, Marie, Berlioz, and Oliver soon joining them on their own cushioned chairs- and once the three-tiered silver tray laiden with finger sandwiches, scones, clotted cream, jam, and pastries and cookies and tea service had been laid down on the table and Edgar and Elvira had left the room, Roquefort would soon join the little party with a cracker or two in tow to dip into cream, she well-knew by now. "'S 'il vous plait' do not worry so, 'ma poupette'. I do not expect you in *the LEAST* to be a 'perfect' little lady- merely a well-mannered and well-educated one. One way or another, sooner or later, you shall make for a fine 'dame', and I shall be just as proud of you as I am now and your dear sweet father was."

Those warm loving truly-meant words slightly soothed 'Nocchi's troubled heart and somewhat set her at ease.

......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Deep Mourning lasted a year, but Madame did not in the least mind if her niece wished to before Slight or Half wear either a trimming or in full shades of plum, lavender, mauve, violet, very dark red or blue, brown, grey, or white rather than full-on black. She hardly paid mind to jewelry restrictions either- more than likely 'Nocchi's half silver locket would be her main 'bijouterie' for most of the half or full year of mourning her beloved father rather than any sort of jet, onyx, or black garnets, as was traditional for Full/Deep Mourning, and semi-so for Slight Mourning. So even though Edgar raised his eyebrows and Elvira clicked her tongue disapprovingly, young Pinocchio was dressed to meet her new tutoresses in a black light woolen dress that was lined with deep reddish-brown and had a white collar, with her gloves being ash-grey, the shawl loosely draped over her thin arms lavender-violet cashmere, the stockings of course being white as well, and her shoes also black.
Even though she WAS truly in mourning, she did not want to seem- well, morose or dour. That seemed *RUDE*, to her!

Madame herself was wearing a very dark shade of purple- her only jewelry was a cameo of her family before they had separated in her twelfth and Geppetto's tenth years, her shoes were deep gray, and while her silvery-white hair was down and neatly brushed, she wore a simple-yet-elegant black hat complete with a light dark lace veil over her face. As was the custom, Edgar had a black band wrapped around his upper arm which would last for a year, and Elvira was arrayed in a deep shade of grey from her dress to her maid's cap. Oliver kept his indigo ribbon- Toulouse went navy rather than sky or cerulean, Berlioz a wine-colored scarlet, Marie dark rose at her neck and the top of her head, and Duchess' collar had gone from gold-and-diamonds to one specially-made, ordered, and delivered of silvered jet and onyx, standing quite starkly against her silky white fur. This would last for Full Mourning- then lighter colors would be allowed same with gold alongside the black and darker shades; and then Half-Mourning would come into play, allowing Marie to wear pinkish mauve or lavender, Toulouse sapphire or lapis-lazuli, Berlioz wine, damask, or vermillion, Oliver lighter shades of purple if he wished, and Duchess *SILVER and diamonds*. And once the year had passed, then 'normal'/'usual' colors could be worn again...

All-in-all, Bonfamilles and staff made quite a respectable fine picture for Ladies Regina Mills and Nova Meissa when they arrived. Nova's dear friend Chiara 'the Blue Faerie' had tearfully told her of what had happened to her sweet former-live stringless marionette niece, so the 'Rose Faerie' and former princess whose mother had been a simple miller's daughter had dressed accordingly out of respect. Nova's usual gold and pink-flowered necklace was replaced with a twin of silver and either black or very deep/dark red blossom-shaped gemstones, and she was dressed simply in navy and midnight blue with her wavy auburn-brown hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck. Regina's own straighter jet-black locks were arranged half-loose with a braid hanging down the middle, and she was clad in black from neck to foot just as simply and elegantly as Nova with a garnet-embedded silver oval locket her only adornment. Neither woman had the slightest trace of makeup on their faces.

Regina was reminded more than a little of her would-have-been-stepdaughter Princess Snow White, even with Pinocchio's current sadness, her wearing mostly dark colors as was likely NOT *her USUAL*, sweet-lipped expressive mouth a pale apple-blossom pink rather than blood/rose-red, nose of a different shape, and her large long-lashed eyes a bright brilliant shade of blue rather than deep emerald-green. Dear sweet lovely-inside-and-out Nova was mainly simply sympathetic towards her friend's niece/godchild for what she had untimely suffered, and was still suffering.

Though Regina was the more 'dominant' of the two, 'twould be Nova who would be Pinocchio's main governess- so 'twas she who first stepped forward and gave a small curtsy while saying quietly in her dove-coo of a voice, "Good morrow, Lady Adelaide Bonfamille-Tommaso- 'giovane signorina' Pinocchio Belmagio-Tommaso. My deepest and most sincere condolences for your loss; I never met 'good Geppetto' personally myself, but he was said by all accounts -including that of my dear friend Chiara Belmagio- to be a very kind, loving, caring, giving, and warmhearted man as well as a skilled woodcarver and toymaker who brought much joy and happiness to others whether they were children or no. I hope that your grief for brother and father begins to ease in time...
"-You have my condolences also for your losing a beloved family pet, Signorina Tommaso ...and being torn away from your elder sister Signorina Cleo despite your father's wishes in his will that she should be the first choice of guardian to you."

Regina's heart throbbed with empathetic pain as she saw and heard young Pinocchio swallow hard and try to still her quivering lips while blinking rapidly as though to wink away tears. Clearly, she had loved her father very much, and *ALWAYS* would- just as she did with her Daddy, whose heart Mother had furiously and cruelly ripped out and crushed when Regina both saved Daniel's life and flat-out refused to marry King Leopold so as to become Queen of the realm and a stepmother to the little princess. She had frantically and tearfully called Rumplestiltskin's name three times, and he had stripped Cora of her powers once he'd smoke-flashed into view before King Leopold had then thrown the miller's-daughter-turned-queen in the dungeon for life due to her crimes.
Then afterwards, Regina had run away from the German kingdom of Misthaven near the famed and feared Black Forest on horseback with her other dear friend (and just-realized love) Nova, who had just finished faerie godmother training and was willing and ready to grant wishes and make one's dreams come true if such was at all possible as 'the Rose Faerie'. It was not an absolute requirement for Wishing Faeries to dwell exclusively on the Wishing Star, thankfully- but every now and then, Nova did have to make a trip there and sometimes stay a night or two. Regina would take what she could get, and was thankful each and every day and night that they did not have to be truly separated.

"Th-Thank- Thank you, M-Miss Nova," Pinocchio quavered, her apple-sweet musical voice currently thin, watery, and a little rough as she briefly wiped at her swollen and bloodshot big blue orbs for eyes.

"'Oui'- yes. 'Merci beaucoup', Dame Nova Meissa. We- We *GREATLY appreciate* your kind words."

Ah, her sweet darling- she flushed rose from Frau Bonfamille's and Fraulein Belmagio-Tommaso's thanks. 'Twas hardly anything to be embarrassed about, but then Nova her beloved was a rather humble person... "N-No problem- truly, good ladies! You- You are very welcome. Ah- I'm sorry! Good morrow to all of you as well, Signor Edgar Balthazar, Signorina Elvira Blanchett- Signora Duchess, Signorinos Toulouse, Berlioz, and Oliver, and Signorina Marie Bonfamille!"

"'Merci beaucoup, bon dame'- but, may I ask, why did you also greet *the CATS* of the house?? Surely, such a thing is not done!"

Regina had to stamp down *HARD* on the urge to curse the slimy-feeling kiss-arse man who had *NO business* whatsoever eyeing Nova's slight slender form up and down like he had with a glint of lavacious approval in those beady dark eyes. Stick with *YOUR OWN apple tart*, pleaseandthankyouverymuch!! And *do NOT* eye HERSELF either, Balthazar!
Instead, she smiled sugar-sweet and proceeded to greet *EVERYONE* of the Bonfamille-Tommaso household herself- humans and cats. She too gave her most sincere condolences, and Pinocchio smiled very softly at her- then she gave a small curtsy of her own while murmuring just loud enough to be clearly heard, "H-Hello, Sig-Signoras Regina Mills and Nova Meissa. It's- It's very nice to meet you. -Thank you for coming and agreeing to teach me music, art, manners, dancing, and housekeeping."

What a quiet, sweet, well-mannered child she was...! The quiet was a given, due to Herr Geppetto's fatal accident- but Regina sensed that for all she was usually a social butterfly, Pinocchio was also often rather shy; though threaten to or *ACTUALLY harm* her loved ones, and she was as quick to defend and protect herself alongside others as a mama bear shielded and fought for her cubs. She had been taught how to throw a punch, launch a slingshot, and where to give a good kick or kneeing- but she would also need training in the way of the sword, dagger, and knife as Daddy had taught Regina in secrecy, as well as that of a bow-and-arrow. After all, in this world, you could NEVER be *TOO careful*...
And some extra Fae lessons from Nova wouldn't hurt, either. Regina was no faerie by any means ...but maybe she could teach Pinocchio how to brew a few potions, regardless?? Horseback-riding, too; these days, it was quite fashionable for a noble lady to be a horse-woman!

She softened and made her smile more real (yes, pun intended) in the direction of the still-living doll, her ebon eyes glimmering with faint warmth from her fair face. "You are most welcome, young 'fraulein'. -We are very pleased to *meet YOU*; Lady Chiara practically wouldn't SHUT UP about you any more than about her other two nieces Dafne and Nina!"

Elvira coughed suddenly. Nova stiffened, and Regina raised an eyebrow, but they said nothing save for "Yes, Miss Elvira? What do you need or require?" from the former.

"Ah- well... Eet eez just zis, 'madames'. -Will you be 'oused as live-een tutors, or no?"

It was Madame who answered politely and kindly as usual. "Partially, Elvira dear. Regina is still the stable-mistress for Palace Chez's equarian charges, after all; and occasionally, she and Lady Nova will have other young ladies to tutor as well as young mistress Pinocchio. I have already acquired a suite for them, as they would prefer to share rather than sleep apart."

"-Very good, Madame."

"'Oui, Madame'."

"Thank you, Edgar- Elvira. Now- let us away so that 'Dames' Nova and Regina can get started. Come along, Duchess- kittens! Come al- Oh! You wish to stay and give 'Nocchi some support, Oliver and Berlioz? This is hardly 'delicate', so I have no objections. 'Tis *THEIR permission* you must ask, 'mon chers'..."

Horses were Regina's very favorite animal, but she had a soft spot for cats (hah). "I have no objections, either. They seem like rather nice, polite, well-mannered little gentlemen, and they very clearly love and care for young Pinocchio."

Nova, meanwhile, loved *ALL* mammals, birds, fish, and insects so *of course* she said 'yes', certainly, it was also alright with her!

So Madame, Edgar, Elvira, Duchess, Toulouse, and Marie quietly left the drawing/living-room- the butler to dust the chandeliers, the cook-maid to fix lunch, and the former opera singer and cats to respectively stitch a sampler and take a nap in/on the window-seat.

"-Why don't you show and tell us what you've learned so far, if anything, sweetheart? Then 'Gina and I can determine which 'finishing' areas to focus on or broaden."

"Yes, Miss Meissa. Wh-Where do you want me to start?"

"...Let's go with something more-or-less familiar, to try and put you at ease. Could you please, if you know how, play 'The Nightingale Aria' on the piano, and then sing 'It Was a Lover and His Lass' before reciting as much as you can remember of Juliet's part of 'the balcony scene' from 'Romeo and Juliet'?"

"'Si, Signora Meissa'."

(Needless to say, the governess and her beloved who would also be a tutoress were quite pleased with the progress made so far! Same with the gavotte and the waltz, later; if she could manage this, then *surely* a sarabande, courante, two-step, tango, and palso-dolbe would not be much trouble, either. Needlepoint would take a bit of work, but everyone was sloppy and messy their first time. Penmanship wasn't too bad- just needed a bit of finesse. Drawing and painting needed almost no instruction, but she would be given 'assignments' to carry out and complete. Further teaching of French, Spanish, and German with Norse, Danish, and Russian added. The art of *RUNNING a house*- most definitely some tutoring and instructing was needed, same as horseback-riding!
They would give it a fortnight or three weeks before starting on magic and further self-defense lessons alongside academic and 'domestic'; Pinocchio needed to be more-or-less comfortable with a secure routine, first, or her fae powers would go awry and likely hurt herself and/or someone else.)

Chapter Text

'My dearest 'Nocchi-
How are you, "sorellina"?? Are you alright?! Where are you at??! Are you in Pariva still, and being taken in and care of by either Zio Nicco, Signor Lazardo, Signor Rizzi, the boy whom you call "Lampy" and his family, any of your other friends, the schoolteachers Signoras Constantina and Vitelli, -or even dear kind Signor Vito? -Or are you also elsewhere?? Wherever you are, I hope that you're safe and sound and being well-cared for in every way possible, little woodenhead...

I have something to tell you that is quite likely going to be *VERY* SHOCKING *and SURPRISING*, 'Nocchi-mine. You might want to hold on tight to something as you continue to read- *really* TRULY. -Well, here goes nothing and everything...

When I was suddenly flashed away by "madre dearest" in order to apparently not only mess with/up but *VIOLATE* Father's last will and testament, I ended up in the caravan wagon that is Signorina Fabiana's living-quarters. -Not only that, but the moment that I appeared into hers' and her younger sister Sabina's home, golden WEDDING BANDS spangled with our respective birthstones (opal, tourmaline, aquamarine, beryl, jasper, and coral for the both of us with a 'forever' faintly purple-pink diamond added) also appeared on the fourth fingers of our respective left hands alongside a piece of paper that turned out to be *a MARRIAGE CONTRACT*!! And it's *binding and permanent*- a divorce, should we ever wish for one, would *NEVER* be even remotely possible.

You can just imagine HOW *startled* and near-horrified I was; after all, I'm only fifteen years old! I hadn't even really begun to *think of* possible suitors, being more focused on my family at the time...! But at the very least, if SHE must bind me to another so as to separate the two of us just after we'd so tragically lost Father and Figgy, then a semi-family friend whom has always been nothing but kind, caring, generous, and respectful towards 'famigle' Belmagio-Tommaso is not such a bad choice for a spouse by any means. She has been nothing but dear and tender to me, Pinocchio, -and I to her.
Think of it this way so as try and look on the bright/half-full side, "tesoro"- now you have *THREE sisters* rather than just one! And they all love you just as Father ("Dio" rest his beloved soul) did: more than the world ten times over... You are still and *ALWAYS* Father's and my "little woodenhead"- Fabiana's "sweet girl"; Sabina's fellow "trottolino" in both senses of the word ...and still Zia Chiara's "brilliante piccola stella". (-I wonder what your heart-name from "Zia Addy" will be, should you two ever meet...? "Gattina"/"chaton", perhaps, as she is rather fond of cats??)

Please write me back as soon as you are able to, 'mia piccina principessa'- I am in *DIRE* need for answers and to make sure that you are still in some way safe, cherished, loved, and protected even though "la famigle Belmagio-Tommaso" is really no longer together *NO thanks* to a certain "fata" whose wings, powers, and wand should have been *LONG* STRIPPED from her by now!! 'Ti viglio bene', my sweet little sister Pinocchio.

With much impatience, worry, and *love, love, LOVE*,
Cleo (formerly known also as "little water-baby" or "little mermaid")'

'Dear Cleo,
...I am about as well as one can be expected when he or she is torn apart from beloved family, friends, and home just after also losing her "padre". To answer your dire and much-worried question, I am no more any longer in Pariva than you are. After you were flashed away- so was I; and in the next blink of an eye, I was set down almost smack in front of *the EIFFEL TOWER* in *Paris, France*! *PARIS*- where our "Zia"/"Tante" Adelaide Bonfamille-Tommaso lives with her five cats, a butler, a cook-maid, her horse, and a little mouse who is neither a pet nor a *"pest"*...!!

The mouse, whose name is "Monsieur Roquefort", I saved practically just after arriving on the streets of Paris from a group of nasty boys via the self-defense lessons that Lampwick gave me soon after we met when I was seven and he was eleven. He is a very nice "maus" who despite the vast difference in species is quite friendly with and to "Dame" Duchess and her four kittens Toulouse, Marie, Berlioz, and Oliver- and he so dearly loves to be able to pop by during teatime and dip a cracker or three into a bowl of cream or milk! The feline lady of the house herself is as much as a *TRUE* *REAL lady* that neither "Honest Juno" and "Giuda" could NEVER even begin to hope to be (-same with "the Crimson Nightingale of Esperia" AKA Ilaria Belmagio), and as much of one as Zia Chiara is for all that she was born an elder bakers' daughter.
Marie is *beginning* to be on her way to that, but while she is kindhearted and bright as a button, she can often be rather prissy and spoiled at times. (I think she may grow out of most of that, though.) Toulouse- oh, HOW he so often reminds me of Lampy, though much more artistic! Funny enough, despite Marie's also being a girl, it's the youngest two of Duchess' litter/children whom I am now closest to and with since all three of us have rather similar personalities save for "Berly's" snark and mischievousness... But still, he and "Ollie" are as non-cloyingly sweet as can be- Toulouse and Marie of course are, as well; just in a slightly different way!

"Zia Addy" has also been nothing but kind, caring, tender, and loving towards me, and I in turn am growing quite fond of her ...but I *do NOT* in the least trust either Edgar the butler or Elvira the cook-maid and his likely-"paramour". Something about them both just feels- *SLIMY* and HORRID, like "il Volpe e Gatto". Not that I've ever once said so or implied such in Zia Adelaide's hearing since she trusts them as much as she does her dear friend Mr. Georges Hautcorte, of course! -Well, at least three of our "fur cousins" also can *practically SMELL* what's up with those two, if not "Madame" Duchess or Mademoiselle Marie: Toulouse, Berlioz, and Oliver; also Mr. Roquefort, and Miss Frou-Frou the horse...

-*It figures*. It *just FIGURES* that she would do something like that!!! What if you had ended up with someone *CRUEL* and MEAN full of chauvinism??! Someone who would only *MIS-treat* you from the moment you appeared into his or her home!? -'M sorry; I don't mean to yell. I'm just *SO* ANGRY and *hurt* on both of our behalfs...! You're right- she DID pretty much more-or-less *VIOLATE* Father's last bequests and final wishes owing to our staying together since he wanted us both to stick with family, no offense to our dear friends, and it makes me *SICK* to think about as well as breaks my heart and hurts my soul...
'M awful glad that it's Fabiana whom you're now married to, though. She's a real sweet and nice lady, and I can kinda sleep a little easier knowing that she'll treat you with as much respect and kindness as you will her, same as our new sister-in-law 'Bina. I don't at all mind either of them now being family-!

Next letter, I'll tell you a bit more about my new life as Zia's ward. For now, I'd better close this one off.
*LOTS* of love,
'Nocchi'

'Dear Pinocchio-
*Oh, THANK HEAVENS* you're alright, even if you're no longer anywhere in Italy; much less our home village of Pariva!!! *Thank you God, thank you angels*...! And *THANK you*, *Signor Roquefort*, for saving my sweet little sister just as much as she did yourself when she was dumped on the streets of Paris!! I don't want to even *BEGIN TO think* about what might have horridly happened, otherwise-!

*Aw*- "Berly" and "Ollie" do sound rather sweet, and so do their elder siblings, 'Mamma', former opera-singer owner, little mouse friend, large horse friend, and "Madame's" own "cher ami" Mr. Georges. Strange- is there no father or husband around?? *UGH*!!! Just from your briefly talking about them, *Edgar and Elvira* FEEL "slimy"- two kiss-up Uriah Heeps whom Zia Adelaide *should NOT* in the least trust!! I hope that you mainly stay out of their way...

-That's right. "Nonna" Laurane Donna Bertrande Bonfamille was a *noblewoman*; a BLUEBLOOD. And now you are the ward of a "donna" of genteel aristocracy, for all that you were born and raised mainly the child of a woodcarver/toymaker and a younger bakers' daughter in a small Italian village... Which means that you are being given "finishing/charm school" lessons, hopefully still alongside the usual academics.
Are your tutors at least *SOMEWHAT kind* to you, if not in full?? How are you doing in both sets of lessons? -Do you have to *STUDY-study* in secret, or no??

In case you are wondering, being the wife of a nomadic puppet-mistress who is half-Romani with a drop or two of French blood in her veins alongside is not so bad at all. "Fabi" is kind, warm, and gentle, street-smart and book-smart, and quite a lot of fun; same with 'Bina! (You know this already, of course- but 'tis slightly yet much different when one is the other's helpmeet/mate, "sorellina". One day, you will know and find this out for yourself...) She treats her troupe fairly, kindly, and honestly, paying them well and often; we third the chores when not "performing" for an audience, and get on right as rain.

Love, hugs, and kisses to *EVERYONE* in "Maison Bonfamille" (except for we-know-whom times two),
Cleo Erica Pelagia Lamaya nee' Belmagio-Tommaso'

'Dear Cleo-
-*Oh, GOSH*; where do I begin???! Guess I might as well start with the lesson thing...

"Si"- yes. My tutors and I get along just fine, thankfully! And, yes- I am still being given "usual/regular" lessons as well as those of "charm/finishing school"; so to speak, Zia Addy does not at all mind or care about my stocking being *BLUE* as well as the finest silk. In fact, she greatly ENCOURAGES such! So I am being given further intellectual education alongside a fairly thorough knowledge of music, singing, dancing, drawing, painting, "modern languages" (and a couple more besides), penmanship, how to sit, stand, walk, talk, eat, and comport myself as a young gentlewoman, and how to one day run a household of my own.

My main governess's name is "Nova Meissa"- she's a dear friend of Zietta Chia's, and she's awful sweet. My "substitute", former German princess and now stable-mistress Regina Mills is a bit more cold and stern every now and then, but nowhere near an "ice queen". She's also teaching me how to defend myself further (though she said that Lampy gave me a *VERY good* head-start), should the need ever arise.
#Miss Nova is also known as "the Rose Faerie", and she's pretty much taken over magic training where before Zia Chiara did so for me. Lady Regina is a witch/enchantress/sorceress rather than any kind of Fae, but she says that in a bit, she'll teach me how to brew some potions, ride horseback (but NOT *sidesaddle*!! She says that that's acutely *UN-comfortable*, and that a fake wooden leg clad in a stocking and boot with one's skirt draped over it works *WONDERS*), and how to protect my heart from ever being ripped out, used against me, and/or crushed into dust, therefore KILLING me. *YIPES*, on that last...!#

I knew that you had an eye for and were sweet on Miss Fabiana ever since you were at least twelve if not thirteen, -so at least you ended up with someone you pretty much fell in love with! Here's hoping that she feels at least half the same for you...

I miss you *an AWFUL* lot, 'tenezzera piu vecchia sorella' (tender older sister)- just as much as Father and Figaro!! Wish you were here- that we were together like he wanted (no offense to Zia Addy, of course!)...

"Ti viglio bene",
"Little Woodenhead"

*OH*!!! P. S. I completely forget to tell you- and I'm *AWFUL sorry* for that!! I've also now met *BOTH OF Toulouse, Marie, Berlioz, and Oliver's fathers* and "Dame" Duchess' mates- they're stray cats respectively named "Satchmo Crazy-Legs (I *kid you NOT*) Crothers" and "Abraham DeLacey Giuseppe Casey Romeo Thomas O'Malley", and they're part of a street-cat jazz band, from what little I've heard so far. Mr. "Scat Cat" is a stocky plump black cat with green eyes who often wears a black bowler hat and white-collared red bowtie and plays the trumpet, and Mr. Thomas O'Malley is a taller and kinda-leaner semi-lopsided tuxedo "gatto" with ginger-red and cream fur and *GOLDEN-YELLOW eyes* who mainly sings (I don't know what kind of instrument he plays himself yet, if any).
They're both smooth-talking as well as "street-wise", but Mr. Scat Cat and Mr. Thomas O'Malley are kindhearted and honorable gentlemen for all that as *THEY weren't*. I haven't met the rest of "the gang" yet, but in the words of Signor O'Malley- "Well... y' know- they're kinda rough around the edges, but if you're ever in *a JAM*, *WHAM*!! *They're right there*...!"

P. P. S. Berlioz *LOVES* their music!! In *HIS words*, "It isn't *Beethoven*, Mama, -but it *sure BOUNCES*...!" #No marriage or claiming has been made official due to Edgar and Elvira, and their hatred of *ALL cats*- and especially "common" cats. A cryin' shame, honestly- Zia Addy doesn't mind their being non-peers, when the staff are nowhere in the vicinity...
And no- Zia doesn't know about my being part Faerie by "birth", my being a Creation, or your formerly being Father's pet goldfish either; nor *Miss Nova's* being a faerie, or Lady Regina being a "pythoness". We can't risk Mr. Edgar and Miss Elvira finding out *ANY OF the above*, given Zia's near-unshakable trust in especially him-! I don't think that he likes magic at all, to be honest...#'

'Dear 'Nocchi-

Nothing much to say save for that I *miss YOU* SO VERY MUCH as well, and *LOVE* you the same amount, and then some-!! I'm also very glad that you are getting along (hee) swimmingly with "Donnas" Nova Meissa and Regina Mills same as our remaining blood family on Father's side -including kith and kin/nearest and dearest *with FUR* and tails-, and for all accounts doing quite well in both #all three# sets of your lessons. Already, I'm sure that you are more of a *TRUE lady* than SHE has ever been, or *tried to be*, '"dolcezza"...! In a humble cozy Italian toymaker's shop, a grand mansion in Paris, or elsewhere, you are inside-and-out every inch the "little princess" as Sara Crewe herself.

Always sending my love by the BUSHEL, by the *BARREL*- by *the TON*,
Cleo'

P. S. I do hope that *one day*, you'll meet up with your dear "conscience" Signorina Jiminy Cricket again. It's about time that a joyous REUNION happened for you rather than "Adieu; adieu! Parting is such (bitter)sweet sorrow...", and she seems, even from your brief recollection and meeting, like such a rather nice "ragazza/donna"...!'

Chapter Text

Ladies Nova and Regina, Zia Addy, Zia Duchess, and even Zia Chiara had said that it was now *TIME*, given she was now fourteen years of age. She had gone through the five months and day of Full/Deep Mourning whenever she happened to be in public- then Slight Mourning (meaning she relinquished the protective face-veil, but still wore all-black clothing) for four months, and then the final three months of Half-Mourning in shades of grey, mauve or violet, brown, deep scarlet, and white while taking part in small inconspicuous activities such as tea with female friends -well, more *Madame Bonfamille's* female friends; but semantics-. And now that all stages of mourning were finished before and after further training, 'twas time to emerge from the dark 'comforting shelter' of the mourning period and back into a bright social world both familiar and not.
Now that she was old enough, it was time for Signorina/Mademoiselle Pinocchio Benjamina Seth Belmagio-Bonfamille-Tommaso to be officially introduced into society. How?? Why, by *a COMING-OUT BALL*, of course!

Traditionally, a virgin debutante wore an all-white or mostly-white gown whether she was the subject of a private or public ball or no. But Madame Adelaide Hermione Catherina Bonfamille-Tommaso was an unconventional woman for all that she was well-mannered, and she knew that 'Nocchi', before and after Mourning (if she simply that day just felt like wearing 'quieter' colors), more often than not was clad in bright vibrant shades. Regina and Nova agreed, as did Duchess- though Marie sniffed and *DIS-agreed*.

So on the night of her Official Debut, Pinocchio was dressed in a beautiful soft chiffon and gossamer-fine silk ballgown both somewhat old-fashioned and simple-styled yet more 'modern' in different shades of warm rich pale cerulean-blue, turquoise, lavender, and blush-pink that lightly sparkled with the help of a sprinkling of faerie star-dust. The neckline was modest yet reached her collarbone and *just* bared the tops of her shoulders, slightly ruffled and lightly covered with delicately/softly-hued butterflies. The sleeves were short and slight(ish)ly puffed, and the billowing floaty skirt half-voluminous.
A blush/rose-shaded cashmere shawl was loosely draped about her thin arms and small slender back, her stockings were pure white silk, and on her small feet, courtesy of Regina and Nova, she wore shining rainbow-reflective crystal-cut glass slippers (YES- *REALLY TRULY*!!) with delicate pale golden butterflies on the toes that were as comfortable as worn house shoes. ("My old teacher in magic Rumple once said that 'Every story needs *a memorable detail*, dearie!'") -Though to the 'rabble', Edgar, and Elvira, they were simply nice pretty silvery slippers; only the Bonfamilles, the Rose Faerie, and would-have-been Evil Queen truly knew what those lovely shoes were made of.

Her long semi-waves of raven-black hair were pulled back in a half chignon lightly sprinkled here and there with sparkling white sapphire and quartz hairpins where lavender and cerulean chiffon ribbons weren't tied into the dark satiny tresses, her elbow-length pure white gloves were still fingerless, and she still wore her silver half-locket around her neck. She only needed faint touches of makeup at her eyelids, cheeks, and lips in order to enhance her gorgeous eyes, pretty face, and sweet-lipped expressive mouth. -She was the 'belle of the ball', but she didn't really feel like it.

Surely, such a thing would be more suitably attributed to either Lady Nova, resplendent in sparkling rose-pink chiffon and satin herself complete with her usual pink-flowered necklace and a small matching tiara, former Princess Regina, clad in a silk-velvet dress of the deepest red embroidered with a lavish pattern of blackbirds and bejeweled with smoky black crystals that sparkled in the light with her own long dark hair pulled up, back, and adorned with more melanoid crystals, or Zia Adelaide, who tonight was arrayed in a long sleek dress of fine peridot-green satin accented/topped off with long golden gloves alongside the jewels winking from her delicate slender neck and shells of ears, a single fiery plume of a feather adorning her own snowy chignoned locks! THEY were classically/traditionally beautiful- she was *absolutely NOT*, by ANY means.

She said nothing of any of this, of course, as she did not want to upset anyone or hurt their feelings. -Oliver and Berlioz to a point sensed it, though.

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She was publicly announced via Mr. Edgar- she had given a deep curtsy to her audience before nervously gliding down the stairs, nervously gliding into the foray of high and middle-class society as the (half)orphaned ward of Madame Bonfamille and niece of renowned former opera star Adelaide. Many young and young-ish men and some women of the same swarmed around the strikingly-unique young beauty with an odd quaint almost fae-like charm of her own as opposed to common conventional fairy-tale princess prettiness like bees in the vicinity of a particularly lovely nectar-laden flower- here besetting her with requests for a dance, there offering her either a cup of punch or a plate of tiny sandwiches if not chocolate bonbons. The usual sparkling liveliness of her character was no more than a faint glimmer of the North Star through a thick mist, now replaced with the air of being constantly absorbed in some beautiful but sad dream- not that this deterred would-be-suitors any.
They could sense that she usually laughed a joyous ringing of Notre Dame or playful tinkling of wind-chimes if not Christmas bells, sang like a bird flying free and high in the sky, and danced akin to either a merry Gypsy or a swan gliding along the water. They saw the genuine warmth and kindness in her big blue orbs for eyes fringed with long ink-dark tassels of lashes, and KNEW that she was as beautiful *IN-side* as she unconventionally was on the out. -She would be kind, courteous, and friendly to the wallflowers as much as other belles and swells, but not be one of the former herself...

Little did those 'garcons et filles' know that Mademoiselle Pinocchio *DID yet feel* like a wallflower- a modest violet still rather than a blooming hot-house rose even as she slowly came to filling her dance card, and made polite small talk and even occasional jokes with 'donnas' and 'signors' who wanted to court her *just because*- for JUST *HERSELF*, and not because she was the ward and niece of famed wealthy former opera singer Madame Adelaide Bonfamille. They did not laugh or make fun of her elongated-button nose, say that it was horridly out of proportion with her big baby-blues and doll-face, or call her many different forms of 'ugly' or 'homely'; *more than willingly* shared a plate of delicacies, lightly clinked a glass of punch, or swept around the dance floor with her...

"VERY *nice* weather we're having for this time of year- yes, my lady?"

"-'Si'. 'S almost like being back home in Pariva, some days..."

"*Ahem*! Your ladyship, pray pardon my slipping into personal territory, but- your ladyship looks in tolerable good health!"

"'Merci beaucoup', your grace. And you look much the same."

"What do you like doing in your spare time, Mademoiselle Tommaso?"

"M-Many things, 'signore'."

"Like what, pray tell, sweet lady??"

"W-Well, I- I'm quite fond of reading and telling stories alongside singing, dancing, and occasionally playacting."

"Play... Do you play any instruments, Lady Pina?"

"'Si'. Piano or harpsichord, the harp itself, the lute, and the flute."

"I *LOVE* to bake or cook! Do you?"

"O-Oh, *YES*! Ab-Absolutely."

"Gardening?"

"N-Now and then, 'signorina'."

"Have you ever been traveling? To the mountains or the lake, at least, if not out of the country?"

"J-Just from Pariva to here in Paris, France after- a-after ...something that I'd really rather not relate, 's 'il vous plait'."

"Of course- of course. My- *OUR sincerest apologies*, 'Piccola Signorina' Pina!"

"It's- It's alright. But- But thank you; I- I do appreciate it, all the same. -'Pina'. That's a new one I haven't heard before, when it comes to nicknames..."

"'Pardon, ma cherie'- your full name is unique and lovely, 'tis true. -But for some if not most, 'tis QUITE *a MOUTHFUL*!"

"-Oh. I see. Just- Just please don't semi-deadname me and call me 'Pinocchia' in full. I- I don't really care for that."

"*Certainly not*, if that is Mademoiselle/Signorina Pinocchio's wish!"

"-'Grazie, signore mio'."

Soon her fellow and non-fellow peers also sensed that she was growing a little dizzy and fatigued, so they politely backed off with a bow or curtsy and a knuckle lip-brush or two, now conversing, joking, drinking, and eating in each others' company instead. Pinocchio was *VERY glad* for it, since a wet aching pressure was starting to grow behind her quivering hot eyes as her half-empty heart constantly paid heed to the painfully-obvious gap, the empty space where *he and she* should have been. What had been there before, and what SHOULD HAVE been there before but hadn't ever truly been...

She wondered both sadly and sympathetically if *THIS* was just how Geppetto had felt all those years ago during and after the loss of his *TRUE wife* and son- so very isolated in the midst of a large cheerful gathering with loneliness lurking behind your eyes and your face feeling stiff and cold while your heart wrenched painfully even if your smile was warm and bright for others' sakes. -*Away*. She *HAD TO get away*, now, before she unintentionally caused a scene with Ilaria-esque drama; no thank you!!

Blindly, Pinocchio darted quietly through the doorway into the entrance hall, near-striding away down to the conservatory leading into the outside gardens. "*Oh 'GRAZIE A DIO'*..." she gasped wetly once she'd inhaled and exhaled a blast of bracing early summer air with a hand to her cheek and her other one clinched her slender waist, a couple of tears leaking from her eyes and trickling down her face as a wave of sheer melancholy and grief near pulled her under again.

In a near-perfect world, Paris would only have been a visit to see her other 'tante' whom Father so dearly loved- a visit for The Season. Geppetto would have proudly, lovingly, and watchfully been by her side, sharing the first dance with his own 'little princess'- her 'madre', either Stepmama Constanza or Mamma Ilaria, would have done the same alongside big brother Carlo; each and every one of them plus Zia Chiara carefully vetting every single would-be-suitor. Mamma would have been PROUD, *pleased*, and *so HAPPY* to call her 'beloved child'- 'dear daughter'- 'my darling girl'; Father, every time he would come home, would shout jovially, ~"*Pinocchio*! Where's my girls- my *BEAUTIFUL girls*?! *Where are my darlings*...?"~
There would have been a family beloved by all: a King, a Queen, a Noble Lady tall and fair, two Princesses, and a Prince plus a Princely cat...

Suddenly, a dark shape appeared before Pinocchio and jolted her from bittersweet dreams of what could *NEVER* be- not anywhere near towering over her, but certainly not quite what one would call 'tall' either. She froze in utter surprise and trembled a little, unsure what this below-average-height man could want with her- though she soon found out when *she* chirruped in a slightly reedy trill that was slightly laced with a Scots burr, "Took yer sweet, sweet time gettin' here, didn't ya, dearie? Dinna ye know that 'tis *RUDE* *AS rude* to keep a lady waiting, whether one is a man or another 'donna'?? Surely, yer mama taught ye better..."

Pinocchio flushed bright crimson and coughed while stumbling back even as that smooth-ish musical voice faintly rang a bell at the back of her mind. The elder 'donna' thought that she was someone else- someone who was *VERY late* for a romantic rendezvous, apparently. "I'm- I'm awful sorry, S-Signora!" she stammered. "But- But I'm n-not-,"

But any further words were crushed into silence when the semi-stranger reached inside, took a gentle yet firm hold of Pinocchio's upper arms, and pulled the younger female towards her. Her small startled cry was hushed as well as her slim nicely-shaped mouth covered Pinocchio's fuller slightly softer own. 'Little Woodenhead' jerked in startled reaction- she was afraid for a moment, but then most of it burned away in a blaze of sensation and simmering curiosity.

Only in penny dreadfuls and slightly more daring novels had she read about and was now experiencing *THIS type* of kiss- the kind of ardent lip-locking that Romeo and Juliet had surely engaged in once the 'pilgrim small talk' was completed, both in the ballroom and later on Juliet's balcony! Her mouth was plum-sweet and *warm*- almost hot, gently pressing and demanding until Pinocchio's lips were pried apart and the other female could taste her with her tongue. She shivered, but didn't recoil, eventually finding herself relaxing against the other's lean slight body just faintly curved in the 'right' places; accepting the tender ravishment of her kiss, and even replying to the explorations of her tongue with timid touches of her own as she reached around the elder lady's neck and felt both the marble-smooth nape and the semi-thin silken locks of coiled hair against her fingertips while sliding palm to silken cheek...

Just then, a horrified and startled gasp caused them to break away from their kiss- but it wasn't coming from Pinocchio's own now-moist and kiss-softened mouth. Instead, it was coming from the charming stranger's own.

Instinctively, Pinocchio snapped her fingers, and a bright glowing light like the flame of a candle but more white or pale gold than orange-red appeared above her fingertips. And there, now trembling and near-cowering herself from a vestige of shame, sadness, and fright but now much less green, longer-haired, and more human-esque ...was Lady Jiminy Hadriana Sebastian Cricket, her former conscience and still dear beloved friend, who was now sharply berating herself.

"*FINE conscience* YOU turned t' be ...*NOT*!! What kinda High Keeper, Counselor, and Guide *kisses* their former ward *like THAT*??! *NONE*, that's what!
"Oh, Pinocchio sweetheart- Pinoke, *I'm so sorry*...!"

Alright- enough was enough. "*Stop*- *PLEASE*," she demanded yet pleaded complete with raised hand and hard Look locking big cerulean-blue orbs for eyes with deep dark violet ones.
"*I* *kissed YOU* too, y' know. I've- I never kissed anyone before, I was curious, and- and I wanted to try it out since I'm now old enough...!"

"I *ASSAULTED you*!"

"You thought that I was someone else- someone who was apparently not able to keep her promises. *BAD form*, as actually Mr. Smee would say! We- We must look an awful lot alike, for- for you to mistake us like that..."

"-You didn't mind?"

"The kiss?? *Uh-uh*; n-not at all!"

"I- I- I *can't BELIEVE* I'm askin' this of ya! But ...w-would you -wanna do it again?"

"-I shouldn't. Fairly soon, either my mother AKA Aunt Adelaide will crave a word if my nurse doesn't call for me anon."

"You're right. For- For what it's worth ...I'm sorry I stole your first kiss."

"*Silly*- you have *NOTHIN'* t' apologize for! You're- You're, um... Y-You're a very good kisser. Pr-Practice?"

"With guys and girls- but never a still literal livin' doll until now! Not- Not b-bad yourself for a beginner- heh...!"

"I should go, now. Do- Do you wanna call on me tomorrow?"

"-I'd love nothin' more. 'Buono notte' until then, Signorina Pinocchio."

"B-'Buono notte, L-Lady Jiminy."

"...You look *BEAUTIFUL* by th' way."

"'Grazie'. -So d' you, in your own charmin' kind way."

Chapter Text

She slipped back in as quietly as she'd left, hoping that no one including her governesses and aunt much noticed her slightly moistened and swollen mouth- her cheeks were a lost cause, as they were naturally rosy.

"Needed a breath of fresh air, 'cheri'?" Zia Adelaide smiled in a gentle knowing way.

"'Si, zietta'," Pinocchio nodded back.

"Understandable. Whether a stage performance or a party like this, sometimes one just needs to get away and *BREATHE* without being in such a crush!"

Just then, a tall beautiful woman and elderly elegant(ish) gentleman seated over by the piano noticed the belle of the ball and gave her a peering look up and down. Regina raised an eyebrow, and Pinocchio tried not to visibly blush or look discomfited while being assessed by the glamorous elegant woman with raven-black hair plaited into a long braid at her side, a white gown with an admittedly-scandalously low neckline that fell into a satin silk pool at her feet, matching high-heeled shoes, pearls as large as marbles dangling from her ears with a corresponding strand around her neck that was almost a choker, and a black fur stole over her shoulders, and the 'signore' wearing a gray velvet coat that almost matched his longish hair pulled back in a que, slightly bushy mustache, and eyes and brass-buckled shoes.

"Madame Adelaide, would you and your niece please come over here?" the dark-haired woman called over to Zia Addy in a smooth velvety voice like melted eating chocolate spread over toast.

The former opera singer didn't respond verbally- she merely gave a cordial nod before whispering, "Come, darling- let us see what they want".

"Alright, 'Zia' Addy."

Thankfully, if any whispering was going on, it was circumspect and barely heard, so it didn't feel like semi-nasty gossip skittering over her skin a la a pack of cockroaches as she and her aunt plus Regina and Nova made their way over to the piano.

There was another look up and down- then the woman ventured to say, "Your butler Signor Edgar announced you as 'Mademoiselle Pinocchio Benjamina Seth Belmagio-Bonfamille-Tommaso'. 'Belmagio' ...would you happen to be related to *ILARIA Belmagio* by any chance?"

Pinocchio did her best not to swallow nervously or fidget, answering with her head as high and voice as steady as possible, "-'Si, signora'. I am. She's- She's my 'madre'."

"Hmm..." was the gray-coated gentleman's thoughtful input.

"-Yes. Yes. I can see the resemblance, save for your nose, hair color, and eye-color. -I wonder if you are the same theatrically as she was, or no..."

She couldn't help it- she briefly licked her lips. Thankfully, no one really noticed or seemed to mind, if not quite understand her nervousness.

"Signorina Belmagio the younger- I am Signora Maria Linda, and before my retirement, I was the main diva of the Madrigal Conservatory of Esperia for years. Beside me is the Madrigal Conservatory director Maestro Fredrico Lully."

Pinocchio nervously curtsied. "'Mia donna- mio signore'," she demurred.

There was a very faint twinkle in Maestro Lully's gray eyes that matched the small smile dancing over his mustached lips as he responded with a slight bow and cordial "'Buono serra, cara mia'. My, but what *impeccable* manners you have to match your sweet presence!"

"All- All the better to please others, 'signore mio'."

He chortled quietly at her clever quip to match his own blended into a sincere compliment. This man was another Fox- but silvery and not in the least fake. And he had a rather stern Cat by his side, as well- though her dark eyes faintly warmed as a result of the younger Belmagio girl's good manners. Had she been given an audition, SHE would have arrived *on time* and not made others wait...!
Would she only continue to impress and please? That IS *the question*, indeed, Principe Hamlet.

"Signorina Belmagio-Tommaso- years ago, your 'madre' attempted to audition to be able to sing at the Madrigal Conservatory. -Needless to say, despite somehow becoming a famous and beloved opera star herself, she did not succeed where Maestro Lully and I were concerned. Know you the song that she sang?"

"-I do, Signora Linda."

"Well, then- Pray, would you treat us to a reiteration? We wish to see and hear if you are any different from your mother."

Again, Pinocchio tried not to make her apprehensive swallow obvious even as her hands were sweating beneath her gloves and she replied softly with a small nod, "'Si, mia signora'- if- if that is your wish."

"It is." And with that, Maria Linda and Maestro Lullly rose from the piano bench, and Nova instantly took their place, being an accomplished pianist. As she rested her delicate fingers on the opening notes of 'The Nightingale Aria', Pinocchio stood up straight and swallowed slightly again in order to keep her throat moist, the memory and feel of Jiminy's kiss -HER *very first* kiss- and seeing her 'cara amica' again giving her courage as she stepped into character of a lonely nightingale that had lost her way in the forest and broken her wing. Luckily, she was found by a kind young man also lost in the forest who helped her return home once she'd appealed to him- though she wasn't found right away.

The moment she released her voice, all chatter ceased. As before, Maria Linda closed her eyes, listening with a far-off expression- but this time, she was faintly smiling. So far, so good...

And she only continued to be pleased and impressed- *DELIGHTED*, even! By the end of the aria (they'd let her finish and sing past the recitative), hers' and Maestro Lully's cheeks were sprinkled with tears along with much of the audience's, and their damp eyes were shining and glowing with pure joy while their lips were curved upward into pleased proud smiles- and like the others, they clapped until their palms stung while shouting "*Brava*" or "BRAVI" if not "*BRAVISIMMI*".

Once she'd stage-curtsied, Pinocchio queried nervously, "Have- Have I pleased you, Signora Linda- Maestro Lully?"

"*VERY MUCH so*, my dear girl!" Lully exaulted. "Your voice is sweet as angels sighing- warm as summer skies, pure and bright... '*Bellisima*'; same as your presence!"

"Yes. Yes. It is as 'amico mio' says. You are a *WONDERFUL* actress- a lovely girl with a lovely voice with a more-than-decent ear and a fine sense of drama, yet *UN-like* Signora Ilaria, you make *the stars themselves* bow down when you display your golden throat! As for your presence, -*you* indeed understand that 'The Nightingale Aria' is about more than just a bird lost in the forest. The Nightingale is ANGRY, *MISERABLE*, and *in pain*- and when her melody returns thanks to the kind young man who finds and assists her, it transcends into something new as she finds love amidst despair and wretched loneliness. It is this new transformation -this change in her song- that allows her to finally find her way home.
"It is a song of TRANSFORMATION- of *TRANSCENDENCE*. It is meant to make the listener weep and feel joy at the same time. Forget 'sensing'- I *FELT that spark* from you. You felt and understood the message and true story of the song, yet 'twas so tender and gentle that it sounded like a lullaby. Your soul and the way that you carry all the heart in the world is a *BEAUTIFUL* thing, child, and we thank you for it. No emperor himself received so fair a gift- *the angels wept tonight*."

Pinocchio blushed slightly and dipped her autumn-sky eyes, murmuring in response, "'*Grazie*, Signora Linda e Maestro Lully'- m-'*MILLEgrazie*'! You- You are too kind..."

"Nay, nay, sweet child," clucked the Maestro with a shake of his gray locks. "My lady and I speak *ONLY* *the TRUTH*! As Little Snowdrop surpassed her own mother in beauty inside and out, so you have done the same tonight with your voice, personality, and stage presence. In fact, you have pleased and delighted us so much that we would be quite honored to hear you sing again!
"'Per favore, Signorina Piccola Pina'- would you treat us to an encore?"

"Yes- please. Would you, our bright shining star?"

How could she say 'no'?? Answer: she couldn't. Besides, she hadn't truly performed for a while anyway; and here she was, doing just that for a famous prima donna and the director of the Esperian Madrigal Conservatory, at her own coming-out ball! Two people who many years before had been *UN-impressed* with her semi-'madre', yet had been 'delighted' with herself...!
It was like something out of a dream or day-fantasy- and not even one that she had much thought about, if at all!

"Yes- 'si'; of course, Signora Linda- Maestro Lully. An-Any requests?"

Maria Linda smiled warmly, like a benevolent goddess granting a favor/boon to a faithful devotee. "'Tis your own personal choice this time, Ms. Pinocchio Belmagio-Tommaso."

So Pinocchio whispered softly into Nova's ear- she nodded, and pink-clad lady and dark-haired girl began to play and sing a soft sweet yet wistful tune at the same time; one that ever so slightly rose and increased in hope towards the end as well as rising in a note.

~"Love's a curious thing-
It often comes disguised;
Look at love the wrong way,
It goes unrecognized...

Look with *your HEART*,
And not with your EYES;
A heart *UNDERSTANDS*-
*A heart never lies*!

Believe what *it FEELS*,
And trust *what it shows*-
Look with your heart;
The heart *ALWAYS knows*...!

Love is *not ALWAYS* beautiful-
Not at the start...

So *open your arms*,
And *close your eyes TIGHT*;
*Look with your heart*-
And when it finds love,
Your heart will be right...!

Learn from *someone who KNOWS*;
*Make sure* you don't FORGET:
Love you *MIS-understand*
Is love that you'll *REGRET*...

Look with *your HEART*,
And NOT with your *eyes*;
The heart can't be fooled-
The heart is too wise...!

FORGET what you think,
*Ignore what you hear*;
*Look with YOUR HEART*!
It *ALWAYS* sees clear...

Love is *not ALWAYS* *BEAUTIFUL*-
Not at the start...

But *open your arms*,
And *close your eyes TIGHT*;
Look with your heart,
And when it finds Love,
Your heart will be right...!

Look with *your HEART*,
And NOT with your *eyes*-
A heart *UNDERSTANDS*;
A heart *NEVER lies*!

Trust what it feels-
Ignore what you hear;
*Look with your heart*!
It *ALWAYS* *sees CLEAR*...

Love is *not ALWAYS* *BEAUTIFUL*-
Not at the start...

But *open your arms*,
And close your eyes tight;
*Look with YOUR HEART*,
And when it finds Love,
-Your heart *WILL be* RIGHT...!"~

Maria Linda blew her nose in a rather unladylike way, she was so very moved all over again. "My dear Pinocchio, you are not just a lovely girl with a *LOVELY* voice, or a prima donna! -You are *an Angel of Music* yourself, as much as you are the *TRUE Nightingale*. 'Tis a pity that you are not studying at the Madrigal Conservatory; you would be a delight and joy to teach as well as hear!"

Pinocchio flushed almost the color of a *cardinal's* feathers and gave a small curtsy while Zia Adelaide, Nova, and Regina beamed like the sun next to her. "I- I thank you for your kind and gracious words, Signora- but I must regretfully decline your invitation. While I do still have family in Pariva, Italy, 'tis Madame Bonfamille who is my legal guardian, and I am now all the blood-relations she has in the world on her brother Signor Geppetto Tommaso's side. I cannot- *could NEVER* leave her behind! And, ah- she is rather elderly, as well, for all that she is quite healthy."

Maria Linda gave a gracious nod, but her eyes were still warm. Maestro Lully did the same (even though he had a bit of a pout). "We quite understand, Ms. Belmagio-Tommaso. -'Geppetto', you say?? You are not only the daughter of 'Cleo del Mar the Crimson Nightingale of Esperia', but also the 'bambina' of the beloved bereaved woodcarver and toymaker 'good Geppetto'?"

"That he is and was, Signora," replied Zia Addy, gently placing an elegant hand on Pinocchio's small shoulder. "He was my younger brother. Our mother 'Dame' Laurane Bonfamille was of French blood, moving back to her roots when she and Gregario Tommaso, Pariva's lutheir, divorced when he was ten and I was twelve. I was sent with Maman, and Geppy stayed with Padre, -and we had not seen each other since, though we still kept in touch by writing letters until, well... the accident."

"Our most sincere condolences for your great loss, Madame- Signorina."

"'Merci'- 'tis very much appreciated."

"'Si. Gr-Grazie'."

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

The rest of the party was a blur of color, sound, scents, and taste after that, things only clearing once Pinocchio was back in her room, had taken off her gown, slippers, brassiere, chemise, and jewelry, and was dressing for bed once she and Zia Addy had hugged and kissed each other goodnight. Their cats had moved from Madame's room to hers' three or four months after her arrival, but her feelings were not at all hurt- no feathers ruffled. She knew that Duchess saw their dear 'Nocchi as an honorary kitten, and that she was especially close to Berlioz and Oliver, almost like they were triplets! It only warmed her heart and soothed her soul, knowing that whether in their own chaise-cradles or on/in her bed, her sweet darling niece would not be alone despite her father and/or sister no longer sleeping beside her.
How could she be lonely herself, when such a sight and thought gave her sweet dreams?

Berly and Ollie were sound asleep at the head of her bed, same with Marie and 'Louse in their raised curtained baskets. Only Duchess was still awake, like a mother waiting up for her daughter to come back from a chaperoned date. "Pinocchio, darling- there you are! How was the ball, 'ma cher'? Did you enjoy yourself?"

"'Buona serra, Zietta Duchessa'. It- It was fine. Everyone was *so KIND* t' me, and- and not just due to Zia Addy's fortune or her being a retired prima donna; it was strange... I- I enjoyed myself well enough. -I just wish that Father, Cleo, Zia Chiara, Zio Nicco, Dafne, and Nina could have been there. Lampy, too, for all that this isn't his usual scene in *the LEAST*."

A soothing purr lightly rumbled from Duchess' snowy chest as Pinocchio buttoned up a lace-trimmed lavender pelisse over her white cambric night rail and slid a pair of soft thin white cotton socks over her feet. "He might have grumbled just a little, perhaps- but he would have 'bore' it for your sake, because he was and is your friend. -They saw what your peers back in Italy save for a few did not: that you are a kind, gentle, loving, and caring girl with a warm heart and friendly open soul. They saw your unconventional beauty, and did not mind it, for all that us Parisians are said to be rather snobbish and sniffy of anything that is not absolutely and utterly *PERFECT*, especially when it comes to beauty (and a *WOMAN'S/GIRL'S beauty*, in particular).
"You will have *MANY suitors* coming to call, I'm sure...! Though, I do hope that they they continue to be kind and courteous and keep in mind that you prefer *FE-males* over boys and men."

Pinocchio fought down her glowing blush as much as possible while she reflected on the sudden but not unwelcome kiss out in the gardens- even now, the memory of Jiminy's mouth on hers' still vivid. Her former conscience of a half-night and and half-day had been the first to turn an already unusual night into something beautifully dark, sweet, and strange; she had seized her so boldly, and yet- she had been so ...*tender* while kissing the younger female almost breathless. The Carmilla to her Laura- Lucy Westerna to her Mina Murray, in a world where Johnathan Harker had caught Count Dracula's attention in full and kept it; a sapphic Olivia and non-disguised Viola...

Duchess sensed the blush, but said nothing. She only smiled a secret smile to herself and wondered which lucky lady had snuck and gifted sweet 'Nocchi with her very first kiss while also hoping that the 'dame' who had given her such a lovely night would soon call upon her sometime soon.
"Well- I am glad that you enjoyed yourself after all. I know that you were worried about how you would be received. 'Bon nuit', 'Nocchi sweetheart."

"'Buono notte', Zia Duchess. -Sweet dreams!"

"And to you as well, darling."

Soon mother cat and former little live stringless puppet joined their fellows in slumber, Pinocchio's dreams colored either with Jiminy being a princess raised as a dashing prince while she was 'Cendrillon', or The Scene from 'Carmilla' made more hopeful and less one-sided- after an hour of quiet apathy, Jiminy taking a hold of her hand and holding it with a fond pressure that Pinocchio more than gladly returned. They renewed such again and again, Pinocchio blushing softly as they gazed into each other's languid burning eyes, breathing so fast that the bodice of her dress rose and fell with the tumultuous respiration...
It was like- no. It WAS the ardour of a lover, but it did not embarrass her. 'Twas indeed overpowering, yet not in the least hateful, Jiminy's dark violet eyes currently akin to the depths of Hades' lair only slightly gloating as she drew Pinocchio closer to her, her slim pale lips travelling along one soft cheek in hot sweet kisses as she whispered almost amidst sobs, #"*You are MINE*- you *SHALL be* mine, and you and I are ONE *FOREVER*...!"#

She returned the cheek-kisses and lovingly murmured sentiments, then boldly pressed their lips together in sweet 'bacios' both chaste and passionate. And when her breast was later bitten and one slightly-greenish lower arm also sliced open, she gladly drank her beloved's blood, and her dear father soon joined them as they all then transformed into fruit bats and flew off into the starry full-moon night as Creatures of the Night.

Chapter Text

The next morning was fairly uneventful, mainly because Jiminy had given Pinocchio a mirror-call once she'd woken up and regretfully let the younger female know that a visit was unfortunately not possible today, as her foster/adopted father would have an influx of customers today and would therefore need her help. Pinocchio was disappointed, but let Jiminy know that she quite understood; they'd see each other again eventually! Today, apparently, just wasn't that day...

Calling cards were heaped up on a silver tray in the parlor, and many colorful and beautiful arrangements of flowers faintly perfumed the air. It delighted Zia Adelaide and made her laugh aloud joyously as she, her niece, and the feline members of their family all came down for breakfast. "My, my...!" she chortled with sparkling larimar eyes. "I can see that I'll be *QUITE busy* for the foreseeable future chaperoning daily visits, carriage rides, and picnics when various gentlemen and women come courting. Ah, -but 'tis something I shall very much enjoy!"

-Why did Pinocchio have a faintly sinking *NASTY* feeling that her beloved aunt on her father's side of the family *WOULDN'T actually be able* to do that?

She did her best to try and put it out of her mind, though, so as not to alarm or worry Zia Addy or the others all through breakfast, some morning review lessons taught by her aunt as Miss Nova was instructing another student today while Lady Regina was busy down at the stables, luncheon, some quiet time either reading or doing needlework, and an afternoon carriage ride down to the shops in order that Madame Bonfamille might pick up a couple of things. On the way back, Berlioz clambered up onto Frou-Frou's back for the rest of the ride, which cheered Pinocchio up a little and made her smile as much as Oliver sitting by her side and purring softly as she stroked his soft ginger fur, and Zia Addy's saying sweetly to Marie as she cuddled the white-pelted young cat close, "Marie my little one, you're going to be as beautiful as your mother- isn't she, Duchess?"

"*Prrreow*!" Duchess trilled delightedly in agreement while she leant upward to embrace her dear friend as best she could. Only Pinocchio heard the actual words- "*Oh, YES*, Madame! Indeed she is! And my boys are growing to be so very handsome like their fathers..."

Suddenly, Oliver meowed in both alarm and what sounded like laughter as Toulouse acted like a scamp as usual, attempting to climb up onto Edgar's hat and getting all over his face while the butler was in the driver's seat. Pinocchio clamped a gloved hand over her mouth to try and hold back her own snickers and giggles as Zia Addy laughed, "*CAREFUL, Toulouse*! Ha-ha-ha! You're making it *very difficult* for Edgar; ah-ha-ha...!"

Edgar was cool as a cucumber about the whole thing, but Pinocchio couldn't help but still tense up a little even as Edgar set Toulouse down by the scruff of his neck as gently and carefully as possible before pulling Frou-Frou to a stop with, "*WHOA, Frou-Frou*; WHOA! *Steady*, girl!"

Then he stood up and off from the driver's seat and came around to assist Madame and her niece as they disembarked from the carriage.

"Thank you, Edgar."

"'Grazie', Mr. Edgar."

"But of course, Madame and mademoiselle! I live to serve..."

Pinocchio gave Frou-Frou a treat of oats which the middle-aged horse happily munched on as Toulouse, Berlioz, and Oliver frolicked around and through her hooves like they were still tiny kittens, the dark-haired girl fighting not to roll her eyes, shake her head, or make a face at 'Mr. Edgar's' falling all over himself as Zia Addy carried a parcel wrapped like a present to the house.

"Madame, uh- M-May I take your parcel, Madame? It really is *much too heavy* for you, Madame!"

"Now, *tut-tut*, Edgar; don't fuss over me...!"

"Meow- meow!"

"Berlioz, come back here! Haven't you forgotten something, darling?" Duchess lightly scolded her next-to-youngest.

The black-furred and aqua-eyed young cat stopped short, then turned back and said politely as you please with a sweet smile, "Thank you, Miss Frou-Frou, for letting me ride on your back!"

The lady horse chuckled fondly. "You're quite welcome, young man!"

"How was that, Mama?"

"Very good, darling. That was very nice..." 'Mama' approved.

That made Pinocchio remember her own manners. "Thank you for the ride, Ms. Frou-Frou," she said kindly while giving aforementioned equine a gentle pat and rub on her neck.

Frou-Frou whickered and gently nuzzled Madame's niece's shoulder. Just as with the cats (and mouse) in the house, she had by now become quite fond of the doll-faced girl with big blue orbs for eyes who was now the only relation in the world that Madame had since her father Madame's younger brother had passed away. "As they say in *YOUR country*, 'notre chere fille', 'prego'! And *thank YOU* kindly for the oats."

"You're welcome, 'signora'."

"'Nocchi, dear- Duchess- kittens, come along now!"

"'Si, zietta'! Coming!" Pinocchio called back, hurrying to the house as ladylike as possible with the cats at her heels.

"Oh- and, Edgar, I'm expecting my attorney Georges Hautecourt. You remember him, of course..."

"*Of course*, Madame! -How could ANYONE *forget HIM*??"

'Oh, dear. Mr. Georges is going to lead Mr. Edgar a merry dance as usual since he refuses to take the elevator rather than the stairs. "Elevators are for *old people*!" Ah, "signor"- I know that it's awful rude to contradict one, but you *ARE old*...'

Madame set her package down on the table in her suite, removed her coat, hat, and gloves, then touched up her hair and placed a fluffy pale pink feather boa over her arms once she'd put on a record of 'Carmen'. Pinocchio took her cue and freshened herself up after she'd switched Duchess's usual gold-and-diamond collar for a beaded and fringed teal-blue one.

"There now, my dears. That's better!" Madame murmured approvingly as she took an admiring glance in the mirror. "We must look our *VERY best* for Georges. He's our oldest and dearest friend, you know!"

"Mmreow! (Indeed, Madame)!" Duchess chirruped as Madame gently stroked her head.

"He's the nicest man I've ever met next to Father, Signor Lazardo, and Signor Rizzi, I think, 'zietta'," was Pinocchio's thoughtful input while Zia Addy gave her rosy cheek a loving pat. 'And Mr. Thomas and Mr. Scat Cat; plus Mr. Roquefort...'

*Knock-knock-knock*!

"Come in!" Madame called cheerfully.

And '*santo cielo*'!! Did poor Edgar *EVER* look disheveled and out of breath as he opened the door and panted out, "A-Announcing- Monsieur- Georges- Hautecourt...!"

Duchess' litter instantly ran for the kindly spry little man clad in green and brown and leaning heavily on a cane who was long in proportion from his nose to his limbs and bald at the top of his head. "Adelaide- young 'Nocchi! My- My dears..." he rasped in a slightly wheezy and croaky voice.

"Hello, Mr. Georges!"

"*So GOOD* to see you, Georges!"

Pinocchio bit back a giggle that almost escaped as Mr. Georges accidentally took a hold of and both respectfully and affectionately kissed *Duchess's tail* instead of the back of Zia Addy's hand, swallowing down another as the funny old man exhaulted, "Ahhh... still *the SOFTEST* hands in all of Paris, eh?"

Duchess snickered slightly herself at the comic mistake from Madame's hold.

"*You're a SHAMELESS FLATTERER*, Georges!" she laughed with a playfully-scolding finger-wag as the record player in the background began to play 'Habenera'.

"Adelaide- that- *that music*! It's from 'Carmen', isn't it?"

"That's right! It was my *FAVORITE role*."

"Yes- yes! It was the night of your Grand Premier when we first met, remember?"

"Oh, *indeed*- I do...!"

"And HOW we celebrated your success! Champagne- dancing the night away...!"

Mr. Georges began to vocalize with the music as he and Madame started to dance. It was a rather funny sight to see them waltz and tango, since he was so much shorter than she- but sweet, all the same. Pinocchio hoped that Duchess wasn't getting too squished-

Then she saw Berlioz about to attempt to dance along on the record player out of the corner of her eye at the same time Edgar quietly slipped out of the room. "Oh! *Berly*! Be careful!" she scolded. "You're not a *KITTEN-kitten* anymore, small enough that you could do that, silly!"

Berlioz mewled 'Sorry' sheepishly and leapt down just as 'Habenera' ended. Pinocchio shook her head affectionately while she and the 'kittens' joined Madame and Duchess on the sofa, Berlioz and Oliver both jumping up and settling onto her lap.

"Oh-ho! Oh-ha-ha-ha; oh, thank goodness! *JUST in time*; ah, Georges! We're just a pair of sentimental old fools... Now, Georges; do be serious! I've asked you to come here on a *VERY important* legal matter."

"*Oh*! Splendid- SPLENDID! Who do you want me to sue, eh? Ha-ha!"

"Oh, come now, Georges- I don't want you to sue ANYONE. I simply want to revise my will."

"*Will*, eh?? Will- will..."

Mr. Georges still sounded cheerful and keen as he put on his large round reading and writing glasses and took up his pen once he'd sat down at Zia Addy's desk where some papers were placed atop it, but a cold chill ran down Pinocchio's spine, and she really LOOKED AT her beloved elderly aunt as Mr. Georges asked her who the beneficiaries were. *'Elderly'*- that was the crux right there. Good Geppetto had been sixty-four when The Accident had happened- Zia Addy was two years older, which meant ...that she was now seventy-three years old. She seemed in the prime of health despite her old age -but how much longer did she really have?

She wasn't exactly worried about what was going to happen to her, Duchess, and the kittens should anything untimely befall Zia Addy. According to *FATHER'S will*, her other aunt Chiara would then be her legal guardian, and by no means whatsoever would she refuse to also take in Duchess, Toulouse, Marie, Berlioz, and Oliver! Her main soft spot might have been for doves and crickets, but she was also quite fond of cats as well.
Pinocchio just didn't much like the thought of losing yet another family member whom she loved so dearly and vice-versa.

She forced herself to pay attention to what her Aunt Addy was saying to Mr. Georges so she didn't seem like she was idly daydreaming. "Well, as you know, I have no other living relatives now save for my darling niece Pinocchio, and naturally, I want her and our beloved pets to be always well cared for. I would normally leave this in the faithful hands of Edgar, but he too is rather getting on in age and is surely looking forward to retirement soon- and my just-as-faithful cook-maid Elvira unfortunately has no knowledge of running an entire estate.
"In my younger brother Geppetto's will (may my 'cher petit frere' rest in peace), he has stated that should anything happen to me, then legal guardianship of his daughter Pinocchio Benjamina Seth Belmagio-Bonfamille-Tommaso is to be turned over to her aunt on her 'madre's' side of the family Lady Chiara Evelina Belmagio. And so, that still shall be- and in the event of my passing-on, *EVERYTHING* that I possess -stocks and bonds, this mansion, my country chateau, art treasures, jewels, and my cats-, young Mademoiselle/Signorina Pinocchio will therefore inherit."

Mr. Georges nodded both heartily and somberly as he made the changes to Madame's will with a few strokes of his pen. "It shall be *JUST as you say*, Adelaide my dear!" Then when Pinocchio had kindly helped him up, he left with a grand 'Au vior!' and a *PROPER hand-kiss* to both ladies' hands and a last head or back-stroke each of the Bonfamille cats. Mr. Edgar was ready and waiting (in dread) to help him back down the stairs again.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

"'Gattina'- is everything alright? You seem rather pensive and troubled."

Pinocchio swallowed hard and blinked away tears as she attempted to sit up a little straighter while Berlioz and Oliver comfortingly purred and rubbed their heads against her arm and side- Duchess, Toulouse, and Marie soon joining in. "I- I know it isn't really polite t' mention a lady's age, but- I- I just remembered, while you and Mr. Georges were fixing up your will..."

"*HOW old* I ACTUALLY am?" Zia Addy chortled in a warm-yet-wistful way, gently shooing a couple of the cats away so that she could nestle close to her sweet girl and pull her into a loving embrace. "Oh, my darling girl- my sweet little 'Nocchi... I'll be around for a while yet, 'petit etoile' (little star). This is just so we can be prepared in advance; besides, one never knows what might happen in the future either near or far."

"'Si, Zia Addy'," Pinocchio murmured quietly while laying her raven head on Aunt Adelaide's thin elegant shoulder underneath her simple lovely forest-green moire dress and tenderly hugging her back. "I know..."

"Duchess, my pet? Could you please bring me the package that I bought earlier this afternoon? *Carefully*, mind you, 's 'il vous plait'! 'Merci boucoup', darling; very good. -Here, 'Nocchi sweetheart. 'Tis for you- a coming-out/just-because present that I had commissioned especially for you, but wanted to give you in private. Apologies that it's a little late...
"No, no- don't thank me yet! Open it and see what's inside first, 'ma cheri'..."

Bemusedly, Pinocchio obeyed, shutting her mouth with a quiet 'click' as she carefully tore off the pale lavender wrapping paper once she'd untied the light pink satin ribbon around her surprise gift. Usually, the cats (yes, even Duchess herself; after all, a lady or no, she WAS still a feline) would have pounced on and played with the paper and ribbon- but not today; now right now. Even frisky Toulouse was paying close attention as to what could the mysterious package contain...!

Cats and girl gasped softly with widened eyes and slightly open mouths as Pinocchio carefully pulled out a small rounded-oval beautifully-crafted box from the larger pale blue cardboard container. It seemed to be made of solid gold and jewels of blue and white- diamond, rainbow moonstone, tiny mothers-of-pearl, and lapis-lazuli made to look like a starry sky. She also pulled out a matching necklace consisting of a blue-and-white star hung on a thin gold chain.

"Ohhhh, zietta...! *It's BEAUTIFUL*! What- What is it??"

"Look, 'chaton'!" Zia Addy whispered smilingly with a twinkle in her eyes. A joyful loving smile danced over her lips as she took a hold of the pendant and placed it into a shallow hole on the front. She twisted it around once- then twice...

Slowly, the lid of the pretty little box opened wide. On the inside of the lid, a faintly-colored cameo etching of Figaro and Cleo sitting in a field of wildflowers either smiled or grinned out at Pinocchio- and the little porcelain figurines waltzing to the lovely slightly-haunting tune tinkling sweetly from *the MUSIC-BOX* were herself as a child, Father, and Zia Addy. In her mind's eye, they were dancing around happily on the floor of Geppetto's workshop, if not that of Zia Addy's parlor.

"It's a *music-box*! It plays *OUR lullaby*...!"

"Yes, 'ma doux'. When you play it either at night before you go to sleep, or just because, think of an old woman who loves you very much... Read what your necklace says on the back, 'Nocchi."

Pinocchio turned the little star pendant over. In lovely gold script were the heartfelt words 'Your Heart Will Lead You Home'.

Now *HAPPY tears* blurred her eyesight as she flung her arms around her Zia Addy and hugged her tight. "*THANK YOU, Zietta*! *Thank you so much*!" she cried happily.

Madame Adelaide laughed softly and embraced her sweet young niece back with all of her might. "You are very welcome, 'Nocchi darling! -I love you very much, my fifth 'chaton'/'gattina'."

"I love you more, Zia Addy."

"*I love you MOST*- forever and always. Geppy's little woodenhead if not princess..."

Zia Addy turned the key again, then gently set the music-box down as she and Pinocchio began to sway to its poignant sweet melody while singing their own special song to each other.

#"Dancing bears, painted wings-
Things I almost remember..."#

%"And a song
Someone sings..."%

&"Once upon a December..."&

%"Someone holds me
Safe and warm-,"%

#"Horses prance through
A silver storm..."#

&"Figures dancing gracefully
Across- my memory..."&

#"On the wind,
'Cross the sea-,"#

%"Hear this song, and
*Remember*..."%

&"Soon, you'll be
*HOME* with me-
Once upon a December..."&

(instrumental break)

#"Someone holds me
*Safe and warm*-!"#

%"Horses prance through
A silver storm..."%

&"Figures *dancing gracefully*
Across my memory...!"&

%"FAR AWAY,
*Long ago*..."%

#"Glowing dim as
An ember..."#

%"Things my heart
*USED TO know*-!"%

#"Things it *YEARNS*
*To REMEMBER*..."#

&"And a song- someone sings...
*Once upon a December*..."&

Neither Edgar nor Elvira knew about the music-box, but they did hear both ladies singing softly and sweetly to each other through the servants' pipes, and it made Edgar sneer while an eye-rolling Elvira slipped away to take care of that senile old fool Hautcourte after fixing the soup and bread for that night's dinner. Edgar would see to it that it kept nice and warm-to-hot, and prepare the cats' nightly bowls of cream with a little something ...*extra*, same with the soup for Madame Disrespectful and Miss Sickly-Sweet Goody-Two-Shoes who had stolen away *HIS rightful property*. HE was *a MAN*- a manly-man! *SHE* was just a *silly little girl*; blood-relation or no, what right did she have to her 'zietta's' vast fortune??!

His first thought had been to wipe out all of the Bonfamilles in one fell swoop- get rid of the competition that now he wouldn't even *be in waiting* for. But then he'd thought better of it. After all, he wasn't *the ONLY* Balthazar; and sister Myrna had once written him that he had a niece himself; an *UGLY* little thing, she was, though! Unlikely that ANYONE would *EVER* marry her, should she and Martin wish for someone to take her off of their hands...

Even though she wouldn't live to see it, this would *HURT* Madame Bonfamille!! He would take care of those flea-bitten mongrels after he'd- dishonored the younger one so that she would be *USED GOODS* rather than fresh, pure, and pristine for her wedding night; gloat and let her know that there was *NOTHING* she could do for hers' and Madame's precious pampered pussycats. And then afterwards, she would be locked into marriage with an iron-clad contract he'd had to *actually THREATEN* his own lawyer Meowrice (I kid you not; it made Edgar grind his teeth!!) into making and solidifying with someone she was SURE to *LOATHE*...

"Sing and dance without a care in the world all you please, madame and mademoiselle! For fairly soon -*TONIGHT*, in fact*-, a slip of the hand, and it's off to Dreamland. A dreamland from which six of you will *NEVER AGAIN* awaken from, and the very last Romanov will be half-in, since I want you to be more-or-less aware but HELPLESS when I dispatch your precious aunty and kitty-kitties...
"What's the fun, otherwise? *THIS Huntsman* will give you *no mercy whatsoever*, Little Snow White...!"

Chapter Text

Who would be the first, if not Jiminy, to come calling tomorrow morning or afternoon?? Pinocchio wondered to herself as she ate her soup and bread and sipped her glass of watered-down red wine while Duchess, Toulouse, Marie, Berlioz, and Oliver lapped up their own bowls of 'creme de la creme a la Edgar'- Mr. Roquefort of course stopping by for a cracker-dunk, as usual. (Ever since Pinocchio had come to live at Madame's, he now always carried *TWO crackers* with him if she happened to be having soup or stew for dinner.) Although, if she'd already made her choice, could it even be considered 'courting'- count as such...? Well, at least she could also make some new friends in the process.

It was funny. Back in Pariva, hardly ANYONE had wanted to be seen with her, for all that Mr. Geppetto Tommaso was a much-loved and well-respected man who created such wonderful wooden treasures; her *home-town*! Yet HERE, *in PARIS*, for all that Parisian society was said to be rather snobbish if elegant, it was *the OPPOSITE* like nobody's business...!
She could just hear Lampy and Renata affectionately teasing her now...

~"All rise for Her Majesty!"~

~"All hail Her Royal Colorfulness!"~

~"*SPEECH, oh Fancy One*!"~

They plus 'Xander, Sally, and Sabina would have pestered her for details about her first kiss after seeing her blush and cover her lips, she well-knew-

There was suddenly a yawn from Berlioz- then Roquefort as he *stumbled* back to his mouse-hole like he was DRUNK, mumbling "Soooo, that's- creme- de la- creme- a la Edgar..." just before collapsing fast asleep half-in, half-out. That was strange- he'd been wide awake and rushing back to his home for another cracker to dip...

Then, just as Duchess and her litter slipped right off to Dreamland where they stood, *Pinocchio* suddenly felt rather lethargic and groggy. Her shoulders slumped, her body went heavy, and her mind became muzzy and blurred ...but *UN-like* the others, she didn't fall fast asleep in her chair. Her brain was in limbo rather than either fully-awake or deep in slumber- half-and-half!

Fear, panic, and unease tingled through her small body faintly rather than shooting through her veins like ice-water instead of blood, dulled by the drug that had sent Duchess, her 'kittens', Roquefort, and- *Zia Addy* right to sleep.

*Zietta*!! Pinocchio tried to open her mouth and cry out her aunt's name, but her tongue felt sluggish- if she attempted to talk, it would be awkward and slow. She tried to get up, but couldn't make herself move...

Oh, 'Jesuo Cristo e Madre Maria', WHAT was *going on*???!! *Who had done this*-??!

"Ahhh- still awake, are you, 'mademoiselle'? Well, good- don't want to miss the show after all, hmm? Be rather rude to fall asleep during a masterful performance and not applaud it afterwards."

*Oh, no*- That slimy, slick, accent a blend of French and British, kiss-up, *FAKE* voice... One that she had heard many times a day if not Ms. Elvira's high fluttering coquettish timbre-!! *EDGAR had done this*- DRUGGED them all! -But *for WHAT*??!

He had such hot, GREEDY, *GLOATING*, *HATEFUL eyes* in his plain face made horrendous by twisted entitled wickedness- no, *EVIL*; eyes that raked her small slender form up and down in a way that she LOATHED. She HATED how as she was *tied up and gagged*, his nasty fingertips ghosted over her small breasts from fullness to tip- crept over her thin thighs and feathered over her Mount of Venus...!!

Then he took a rough hold of her by the arm and dragged her away from the parlor, laughing at her continued weak and uncoordinated struggles to try and get away, much less do him harm before/as she did so. She flinched minutely as her knees and lower legs hit the stairs every literal step of the way (like a doll being roughly played with by an unruly child)- ohhhh, she was going to have *bruises ON* bruises and be SORE tomorrow morning, she was *sure of* it! Same as with her torso...

Her dazed and unfocused eyes widened in shock, fear, and perplexion when they reached Zia Addy's bedroom. Edgar tapped 'respectfully' on the door- then waited for a moment before opening it. The monetary lust and greed in his beady dark eyes as he surveyed the luxurious chamber chillingly told Pinocchio that her beloved aunt's oh-so-faithful butler had done this in order to *gain her fortune*. Which meant-!!

Zia Addy was not only already dressed for bed as her niece wasn't yet, but also slumped over her lovely mahogany dressing table where she had been brushing her beautiful long white hair that Pinocchio loved to play with, comb, and style. She was so still it almost seemed like she were a doll herself, save for a very faint rise and fall of her chest; like an elderly Sleeping Beauty...

Leaving Pinocchio where she 'stood' for the moment, Edgar crossed the room to stand beside her aunt, removing the bottle of *sleeping tablets* from his pocket. He used the edge of Zia Addy's long pale lilac nightdress to wipe his fingerprints from the bottle, then carefully replaced them *with HERS'* and putting the bottle on the dressing table. Then he left Zietta's side in order to draw back the sheets on the bed before returning to carry her unconscious form over to it and set her down upon it...
Finally, he turned the dressing-table chair around to face Zia's bed and put a terrified half-drugged Pinocchio in her place. Then he returned to Zia's side and asked of her unconscious form in his most patronizing voice that made Pinocchio long to be able to SLAP and *knee* him before *gagging HIM* and tying him up, then flashing him straight to jail (*oh, NO NO NO*!!!! *Her MAGIC* was locked down, too; *but how*??!! Edgar didn't know about her being Fae on her 'madre's' side of the family ...was Ilaria somehow helping the greedy traitorous sneaky crooked no-good butler??!), "Is there anything else I can get you, Madame?"

Then he *smiled* and replied 'courteously' as though she had spoken and given him an affirmative response, "*CERTAINLY, Madame*! It would be *my pleasure*..."

Pinocchio weakly struggled and attempted to *SCREAM* through the drug and gag even more as Edgar *pulled her sweet beloved aunt's nightdress right up*, exposing her long slender legs, lightly-furred Mount of Venus, and her small slightly-sagging yet still somewhat firm breasts, breathing in deeply as he savoringly looked down at her vulnerable body. *That 'STRONZO'*!!!! She could practically *SMELL* the bitter sharp sourly-bittersweet sense of possessiveness and entitlement that flooded his whole tall gangly body-!!!

Suddenly Elvira appeared in the doorway, holding a cat carrier from which Pinocchio could hear *Thomas O'Malley and Scat Cat* furiously hissing, spitting, and snarling. She too was smiling, even if her own big blue eyes held a semi-tinge of jealousy.

"Ahhh... Elvira, my lotus blossom- it seems as though you have caught a couple of strays. What for??"

"Edgar 'mon cher', I would not normally bozer, but zey attempted to stop me from taking care of Monsieur Hautecorte, so I 'ad to lock zem up while doing so and zen also prevent zem from trying to 'elp Madame Pussyfoot and her sickly-sweet little fifth kitten plus zeir actual cat family! Ze estate should go to US, *NOT zome silly frothy leetle bubble of a girl wiz a frilly flimsy air of a charm* or zome *flea-bitten mongrels of 'chats'*; eet eez *INSULTING* zat Madame Too-Trusting whom we served faithfully for many years should treat us so...!
"Punish her however you see fit, 'mon amor'. I may not like it, but I will not stop you."

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

*NO*!!!! *No, no, no*- NO!!!! He was going to- going to- before he...!!!

Forget slapping his hands away- Pinocchio wanted to *CUT them off* a la Arabic tradition before *CASTRATING* him as they delightedly shook while *spreading Zia Addy's legs wide open* while murmuring "I live to serve...", then kneeled between Madame Adelaide's thighs while taking out *his LENGTH* which was ALREADY DRIPPING as he leered down at the retired opera singer!! She could see in his eyes *how ECSTATIC* he was to show her beloved aunt just how 'cheap' and 'worthless' she was in the real world, and it made her *SICK* alongside horrified and terror-stricken as he stroked his erection and boasted "THIS will make you sing a *different* tune..."

His heavy lanky body landed on top of her slighter slender one, making the bed squeak beneath them. Edgar didn't waste any time and began prodding at her entrance clumsily, greedy hunger blindly driving his base and *CRUEL* desires. Then in a very few minutes, Pinocchio horrifyingly watched Zia Addy's trusted butler slide into her most private and personal place- watched him *RAPE* her while her niece was half-drugged and tied up!! She wanted to clap her hands over her ears at the sound of his loud moan of satisfaction which Elvira soon echoed while *rubbing her inner thighs together*- and something sickeningly told Pinocchio that if her hands weren't full, then the pretty blond maid-cook would have been MASTURBATING as she watched her 'paramour' ravish their unconscious mistress who had been *NOTHING* but *kind and courteous* to them! More bile rose in her throat while her eyes burned with tears as the bed creaked in time with Edgar's thrusts in and out of Madame Adelaide's unresponsive body...

*FINALLY*- FINALLY, he suddenly seized up and emptied himself into her, grunting and groaning through his climax alongside a panting, gasping, and moaning Elvira, the both of them enjoying every second of it as much as their prisoners WEREN'T. Edgar lay there until his member softened enough to slip out of Zia Addy's body.

Pinocchio waited in dread and anguish for him to either pull out a knife and slice her throat, bash her head in with something heavy, stab her in the heart, or simply strangle her with his bare hands once he'd gotten part of what he wanted from her. She was strangled, alright- but not by his hands or a rope...

No- 'twas via a string of pearls that Mr. Georges had given her that Elvira took out of her apron pocket and tossed to Edgar, the necklace fastened around her delicate throat and then TIGHTENED until Edgar had choked the life out of Zia Addy's frail drugged body!! Then using a handkerchief from his own pocket, he gave the pearls a good wipe before laying them against her throat and breasts.

And now, he turned around and eyed a *BEYOND frightened*, anguished, and helpless Pinocchio up and down as he had before with that sleazy smile still on his *UGLY* face. "Now, it's *YOUR turn* for a big surprise, little girl," he crooned. "And there's more to come... Once I've finished *with YOU*, I'll make you watch as I bash you and your dear aunty's precious beloved kitty-kitties' heads in, and then skin and gut their carcasses before stripping the meat off of their bones! Then, I'll make you-,"

But what Edgar planned to do after *THAT horrible horrid thing*, Pinocchio never knew, since a slightly sleepy yet wide awake-enough Oliver sneaked into the room, slipped silently up Edgar's back, and rendered him unconscious by pinching a certain nerve at the back of his neck between his claws. Then he did the same to Elvira, wincing and muttering "Sorry, Dad- Papa!" when in the process the carrier holding them was dropped onto the floor, resulting in pained yowls and meows.

The drug was starting to wear off for Pinocchio, too. She let out a garbled teary "*Oliver*!!", and the young striped ginger cat darted to her side, snicking the ropes off of her body and gently tearing the gag away. Pinocchio fell off of the chair and sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands and shaking like a leaf. She just registered that outside it had begun to thunder and rain- probably had been for a while. She simply couldn't tell at the time because she had been drugged...

Oliver undid the carrier door, and O'Malley and Scat Cat zoomed out, beelining over to theirs', Duchess's, and their kittens' dear 'Nocchi alongside their youngest.

"*Georges*- MR. GEORGES!! Is- Is he...?"

The expression on O'Malley's quietly-handsome face was *CRUSHED* as he rubbed his own carroty head against Pinocchio's arm, tears glittering in his peridot-green eyes that Toulouse had inherited. "'Nocchi- baby girl... Honey, -we tried t' stop Elvira, but we couldn't. I'm sorry, doll- *I'm so sorry*...!"

Seeing that Thomas couldn't talk anymore without choking up, Scat Cat continued quietly, his voice shaking a little, "She- She did to Mr. Georges what- what Edgar -that *DAMN CREEP*, excuse my language, little lady- d-did to your Tante Addy; just- just different since she's a woman-folk, and slicin' his throat open like a hog's belly durin' butcherin' season in the country."

A choked-out whimper slipped from Oliver's lips as tears glossed his own darker hazel eyes. Pinocchio muffledly *SCREAMED* in agonized grief-stricken sorrow and betrayal as once more her heart shattered like a piece of pottery falling to the earth and her soul splintered and cracked akin to a mirror, then burst into tears of traumatization and mourning while rocking back and forth on her knees. Saltdrops of the same emotions dripped down Thomas', Scat Cat's, and Oliver's furry cheeks...

*BOOM*!!! *Ca-RACK*!!!

Duchess yelped and jolted awake as she shook away the haziness of sleep that felt *not right*. It was raining outside- raining with thunder and lightning; THAT was what had woken her up. *WRONG*- something felt *very wrong*...!

"Children, where are you??! *Answer me*! Berlioz?? Oliver?! *Toulouse- Marie- Pinocchio, WHERE ARE YOU*??"

"Here I am, Mama..." Oh, '*MERCI DIEU*'!! That was Thomas's 'princess's' voice, if rather weak and groggy...!

"Mama?? Mama? 'M coming, Mama!" Berlioz- scared as well as sleepy, which was quite understandable.

"*Heeeyyy*... What's all the yellin' about, huh Mama?" Toulouse didn't usually care for being woken up before he *WANTED TO be awoken*- but there was no adorable grumpiness this time. Just groggy tiredness...

Blue matching hers', blue-green, and Thomas's green were blearily being revealed beneath snowy-white, charcoal, and fiery-titian furry eyelids and lashes as the kittens (they weren't really that anymore, but it had stuck since they were still her children- her darling babies) stirred and stretched from where they all had strangely fallen asleep, same as she.

"*Ooooohhhh*, *my HEAD*!! Ugh, this is going to slow down my slithering; oh, my secgreliac...!" Oh, dear- THAT was *Roquefort*, who had 'clonked out' half-in and half-out of his mouse-hole. How strange- how *unsettling*...

Another clap of thunder- Marie yelped and dove into her side, same as Berlioz. They might be almost grown, but neither of them had ever cared for thunderstorms, poor darlings...

"Duchess? Kittens? 'Nocchi?" Roquefort squeaked, still rubbing his head as he sat up.

"O-Over here, Monsieur Roquefort," Duchess shakily replied, worrying more when her children didn't respond and chime in even sleepy and scared as they were. "Is- Is your head still hurting 'something awful', as 'Nocchi would put it?"

"'S not *hurting*, exactly- 'm just *so OUT OF IT* that it faintly feels like that," the little gray mouse chuckled sheepishly. "Right as *NON-stormy* rain, otherwise! H-How about the rest 'f you? Ya'll alright?"

"In- In the same situation as yourself, I think, 'mon ami'," Duchess swallowed.

Toulouse interjected, "I was having a funny dream- not 'ha-ha' laughing funny, but *WEIRD* funny. EDGAR was in it, and we were all riding and bouncing along, same as Madame, Ollie, 'Nocchi, Dad, Papa, and Elvira-," Then he went ghost-white under his ginger fur, gulping with wide eyes, "*Uh-oh*!! It *WASN'T a dream*! EDGAR did this to us...!"

Usually, Duchess would have laughed and scoffed at the idea- after all, he was so very fond of all of them, took SUCH *GOOD care* of them, and was so very faithful to dear Madame! But then she recalled Edgar's little slip of the tongue- ~"Sleep well! I- I- I mean, *EAT well*, of course!"~, and how occasionally his dark eyes would go cold yet fiery with DISGUST and *HATE* towards the cats, Madame, and her niece before putting up the mask again. Had she been fooling herself this whole time?? *Had MADAME*?
-*YES*, she chillingly realized. Yes, she ha-

*MADAME*!!! *Pinocchio*!!! -And WHERE WAS *OLIVER*??! Her Ollie- her baby-baby; her youngest kitten!??

Duchess meowled in fear and worry at the *HORRENDOUS thought* of what a *MONSTER* like Edgar apparently after all was could commit on two helpless unconscious DRUGGED females -one of whom was a *girl of fourteen*!!!- as well as innocent felines, and she dashed for the parlor entrance, which was thankfully unbarred. The rest of hers', Thomas's, and Satchmo's litter (Roquefort hitching a ride at the end of Berlioz's tail) followed at her heels, running through the hallway- racing up the stairs- down another hallway-

A horrified and anguished scream strangled her throat at the devastating sight before her in Madame's room: Elvira knocked out with an opened cat carrier dropped at her side, Edgar the same with HIS TROUSERS DOWN plus *his SMALLS* while his- his- his *LENGTH* was covered in sticky semen, a shattered Thomas, Satchmo, and Oliver (oh, *thank you God, thank you angels* he was alright, as well!!!) attempting to comfort a stormily-weeping Pinocchio who had the remains of snicked-off *ropes* and a GAG surrounding her shaking small form ...and dear sweet beloved Madame Adelaide lying *DEAD* in her bed with marks of a pearl necklace around her throat, her nightgown pulled up to expose her most private parts of herself- her Mount of Venus *SOAKED* and SPLATTERED with more of Edgar's- Edgar's- *SEED*.

*That MONSTER*!!!! That- That *disgusting excuse* for a DOG!!! He had RAPED Mada- no, *Adelaide*, 'Addy' before killing her while she was lost in her haze of drugged sleep!!! And *in front of Pinocchio*, at that!! *Her NIECE*- her sweet loving caring niece...!!
Duchess's pink nose snarled as she growled in her throat with her back-hairs raised and tail puffing even more as her sapphires for eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, her ears laid back when she also smelled *Elvira's own personal lubricant* between her thighs underneath the skirt of her dress. -*BITCH*!!! She had MASTURBATED while watching Edgar ravish and then kill Adelaide; *how dare she*???!!

-*How DARE* Edgar do this...??!!

There was a *BANG* that didn't result from thunder crashing outside, a high-pitched scared angry scream, and then a bright blue flash of light which seemed to unlock something in Pinocchio while red misty light disappated from her form- her magic?? Then aforementioned tearful girl sharply snapped her fingers and sent Edgar and Elvira into a deeper sleep from which they wouldn't awaken until the police snapped cuffs onto them the next morning and dragged them to jail.

She Looked sorrowfully at Duchess, and the lovely white Turkish-Angora cat KNEW. Dear funny Mr. Georges, Adelaide's closest friend, was dead too. Before poor Madame had been ruthlessly used and dispatched of via Edgar, so too had Elvira done the same to Georges. Had he been knocked unconscious as well, or had he been awake and horror-struck all the while...?

Satchmo and Thomas had tried their best and hardest to *STOP it*, but had been captured by the blond cook-maid and therefore been forced to watch and hear two sexual assaults and murders against their will. '*OH MON DIEU*'- had Oliver not awoken and knocked them out, would the same have happened to poor sweet little Pinocchio, who was a 'virgo intacta' save for kissing??!

-Edgar, after that, would have *killed HER AND HER BABIES*- and given the hastily-veiled *HATE* in his eyes, then gutted, skinned, and stripped their bodies like a rabbit, pig, duck, goose, chicken, or deer for game and food, not even giving them a semi-proper burial.

Nobody felt like they could sleep, but they knew that they had to, or not be at their more-or-less best in the morning. So after tenderly pulling the bedcovers over Adelaide and kissing her pale powder-soft cheek as though she were simply tucking her elderly aunt into bed, Pinocchio with genial permission from Duchess enlarged her bed until it was big enough for everyone to lie down and sleep in, with the legs shortened significantly and the canopy and curtains disappearing. Then she just fell onto the other bed with *ALL OF the cats* plus Roquefort curling up beside her, and falling into an uneasy troubled sleep (though thankfully dreamless, for the moment) along with the feline branch of the Bonfamille family and their mouse friend as rain lashed, thunder rumbled, and winds howled outside, Adelaide's bedside lamp still lit since 'Nocchi wasn't too fond of sleeping in the dark.

Far off, Chiara Belmagio's tears blended into the rain as she stripped away her niece's cruel heartless (and SOULLESS) mother's very last vestiges of her magic which she had sneakily held onto seven years ago when she had been stripped off her wings and wand- the crumbs of her powers that she had used to lock Pinocchio's own down and render her further to be unable to save her beloved 'Zietta Addy' from that sneaky crooked no-good *BASTARD MONSTER* of a butler who still unfortunately had a not-so-pleasant surprise in store for young Pinocchio. -Well, *HE thought and supposed* that it would be extremely unpleasant; but 'the Blue Faerie' knew much better, even as much as she did not like marriage contracts...!

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A muffled scream of *AGONY*, HEARTBREAK, and *utter betrayal* that soon trailed off into bitter anguished sobs faintly echoed through the recesses of Jiminy's mind, heart, and soul- piercing her heart like Juliet's dagger dipped into Romeo's poison, while her soul reacted akin to an earthquake ...and she *recognized* that grieving tearful voice that was usually so very sweet, cheerful, and sprightly, for all that she had barely heard it during half a day, half a night, and an entire evening before and after actually seeing her face-to-face for the first time *in YEARS*. She gasped sharply as though she were breaking her head through the surface of the sea after being underwater for a *VERY LONG time*, her deep dark violet eyes both stinging and blurring their crystal-clear sight as she jerked awake. A lump of salt blocked her throat, and her pierced just-battered heart suddenly felt as though a cold dark shadow had passed over it and her soul, making her tremble like a storm-blown leaf.

His mistress/pet's heartsick worry, concern, and fear for her once-charge woke Dodger out of a sound sleep himself, but the Jack-Russell terrier mix with light gray paws and wearing a red cotton bandana around his furry neck put any inkling thoughts about grumbling and grousing firmly on hold when he lifted his ruggedly-handsome head from his front paws and locked his own dark brown eyes with her frightened upset heliotrope orbs set into her still-a-bit-cricket-esque face currently framed by loose tumbles of straw-blond hair instead of being neatly combed and put back/up in some way. He *did NOT* like seeing his human bestie like this- '*no sirree*, as she often said!

"'Mornin', Jimi. *Where's the fire*?? What's goin' on, old girl?"

Dodger never got a verbal response, but after Jiminy quickly scribbled a note to her folks that she left on her bedside table and muttered a quick packing spell, then snapped her fingers and whisked both herself and her canine friend away from the house of Rumplestiltskin and Belle Gold-Cricket to a rather swankish plush suite of a room most definitely located on posh Snob Hill with a lid on every trash can and a fence around every tree outside of those fancy-schmance wigwams, he got *an EYEFUL* of an answer- one that he dearly wished that neither he nor Jimi had gotten, and made them both sick to their stomachs plus heart.

Dodger's own 'ticker' took quite a beating upon seeing the sad *HORRENDOUS* sight of a sweet-lookin' old lady lying stiff, cold, and limp in her grand canopied bed with a strand of unclasped pearls laying across her bust, plus the sight of Jimi's former literal doll of a charge curled up with a bunch of cats and a little mouse in another bed with her cute pretty face framed by mussed tousled semi-waves of shiny raven hair splotched a rough red and tear-streaked, her shut eyes red and puffy while her sweet little mouth that Jimi *had KISSED* -*actually kissed*!!!- night before last during a quiet(ish) moment of Blue-Eyes' societal debut was also salt-swollen. Yet as his own eyes stung with dolorous salt, he also GROWLED- no, *SNARLED* with a hair-raised back and bared teeth when his nose caught a horrible sickening disgusting smell from Madame Adelaide Bonfamille, her butler Edgar Balthazar, and whom was apparently the *FORMER cook-maid* and probably both *HIS* partner-in-crime and lover, given how they were positioned while being unconscious ...and the snicked-up/off ropes and gag surrounding Madame Bonfamille's vanity chair.

Something else *WEIRD*- the lady whom Jimi had said was 'the Blue Faerie' was also lyin' down sound asleep beside little 'Nocchi, as though she were the poppet's mama or aunt as well as godmother. ...Also, where exactly were Mr. Geppetto, little 'Figgy', and Miss Cleo in all of this???! For that matter, *WHY* *on EARTH* was Jimi's 'Pinoke(s)' HERE instead of back in Italy with her pops, kitty-cat, goldfish, and whatever friends she hopefully had??
-Heck; if 'Nocchi *DID have* a ma herself, then *where was she*???

The scruffy mongrel was perplexed like nobody's business, that's what!! -And also more than a bit worriedly heartbroken himself.

Ahhh- oh. Little Snow White was startin' to wake up, apparently...

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"Mmmmn- *ow*..." Pinocchio flinched and whimpered as she slowly came awake and tried to stretch while she yawned and rubbed at her eyes, softly quavering and whining in pain from the many smarting bruises and couple of actual scrapes that marked her small thin body from below her chest to practically her feet. *Ohhhhh*, *OUCH*!!! She FELT purple, black, and blue if not slightly *red* in some places, 'di Cristo'-!
EVEN *her ARMS* were bruised beneath linen, cotton, and lace here and there... He sure hadn't been the least bit gentle with her- not that she'd expected him to b-

Her big blue orbs for eyes flooded anew at the *BEYOND awful* grievous sight just before her, her lips and chin trembling wildly along with her sore aching black-and-blue body as her soul *BROKE* and heart shattered all over again once full awareness came into being and she was wide awake. Tears streaked down her cheeks, some actually dripping off her nose. Sobs, whimpers, mewls, and wailing keens choked her throat, wanting to break free and flow forth yet being held back by a margin as she jammed the side of her hand into her quivering mouth.

'*Father*- *Oh, FATHER*...!!! Father- CLEO- Z-*Zietta*, ...*what do I do now*? Oh, Zia Addy, *I'm SO SORRY*!! I SHOULD HAVE been able to *STOP THEM* *somehow*, magic or no-! But I *couldn't*- *I COULDN'T*... Now *YOU'RE gone* like Father and Figgy- like poor Mr. Georges; gone *FOREVER*...'

Just behind her, the feline branch of the Bonfamille family and their mouse friend stirred awake themselves, though Zia Chiara still slept soundly as though all were still calm, quiet, sweet, and happy. -Not because she didn't care, but because she needed to replenish her strength and magic that she'd used a good amount of rooting around for and ripping out the very last vestiges of her younger sister's powers which she'd sneakily held onto for seven years since being stripped of her *NON-rightful* wings, wand, and magic to make sure that *not a scrap* was left behind this time. However, her own eyes were damp, swollen, and red, and her throat raw from screaming, howling, and crying furiously the night before all during while her own lovely face was striped and stained with tears as well as pale and drawn.

Nobody seemed quite sure what to say, most of the cats huddling together as close as possible while Oliver concernedly rubbed himself against Pinocchio's heaving side and looked up at his and Berlioz's best human friend with his big dark amber-jade eyes more rounded than slanted also shining with a fresh coat of tears.

-Suddenly, as his eye caught sight of something *UN-familiar*, he squeaked and shook, raising both his back and his striped ginger fur while growling and mewling in protective fury as his eyes spit fiery sparks, "G-*Get away from us*!! Get away from my Mama, Dad, Papa, siblings, Madame, and 'Nocchi, or I'll l-*let you HAVE IT*...!"

"*WHOA, now*- *whoa there*, 'piccolo gattino'! Take it easy, now; settle your feathers, 'cocco'. I know that Dodger's a dog, and yer a cat, but he's a verra well-behaved gentleman around felines despite all his rough edges and *DESPISES* th' thought of *eatin' them*- 'too much fur', he says."

"Um, Jimi?? It's just plain FLAT-OUT *GROSS AND HORRID*, end of story."

"'Si', aye- *I knew that*, 'amico mio'. 'M merely just repeatin' what I've heard ye say on th' subject b'fore if any other mongrel or pure-bred dared to bring it up, is all!"

"*Jiminy*...!" Pinocchio gasped out in a choked broken sob while fairly LEAPING into the former quasi-cricket's arms and onto her lap the moment that her familiar *BEAUTIFUL* comforting sweet melodic voice whether singing, speaking, or laughing settled itself into her brain and heart, and she fully recognized it alongside the warm kind uniquely-comely face and silken fair hair now much longer than before same as her own raven-dark locks- recognized *her EYES*...

The soul-shattered younger girl buried her face into her former conscience's much larger strong lean shoulder that still felt a little delicate, clinging on tight to her as though the elder female were a life-saving cable preventing her from *DROWNING* in the midst of a stormy cold friendless turbulent at sea as she finally sobbed freely in a way that she hadn't since 'Madre' had left, Father and Figaro had been killed right in front of her and Cleo, and during Deep Mourning for the latter two.

Jiminy's own vision prickled and blurred, but she could still somehow clearly see the stricken poppet as well as hear her grieving anguished cries and *feel* her small slender form shaking from them- *inconsolable* and *PROSTRATE with grief*. More than gladly, she wrapped her strong tender gentle arms around Pinocchio in a return embrace. "*Shhhhh*..." she whispered soothingly, rubbing her cheek against the younger girl's thick soft sweet-scented dark hair tangled from sleep and struggle and tenderly caressing her violently-quaking body. "Shhh- it's alright, Pinocchio. It's alright... I'm here- *I'm here*; *I'm RIGHT HERE*, Pinokes. You're not alone, 'bambina'- *I PROMISE*; I *SWEAR*!
"It's alright, little woodenhead- *it's alright*. Shhhh- hush. I'm here right where I should be and *ALWAYS* *should've been*, Pinocchio sweetheart. It's gonna be alright- one way or another, *everything's gonna be ALRIGHT*... Shhhh, hush... Oh, baby girl- *what happened*??? Where's Mr. Geppetto, Figaro, 'n Cleo, and why are ya in PARIS, FRANCE instead of *Pariva, Italy* in *MADAME ADELAIDE BONFAMILLE'S house*- and lookin' like you've been through *a STRUGGLE* owin' to those rumpled no-goods lyin' out cold on the floor??"

Pinocchio was crying so hard that she could barely speak, much as she tried to explain through gulps, sniffles, whimpers, and sobs. "F-*FATHER*... Fig-*Figaro*! He- Th-They... Cl-Cleo!! Madre di-! Sh-She... Aunt- *Aunt Addy*; Ed-*EDGAR*..."

Finally, the ex-stringless marionette tearfully whispered what sounded like a Seeing Charm, and a makeshift crystal ball appeared before a startled Jiminy's wide eyes, showing the elder female and her canid companion all- from The Accident three years ago to the HORRID *AWFUL* *TERRIBLE events* just the night before...

Jiminy Cricket-Gold was DUMBFOUNDED- *heart-stricken*. *Heart-SICK*. Pinocchio's half-tragic tale that had just unfolded before her very eyes had overwhelmed her completely- given her second-hand deep traumatised emotional wounds that left bright vivid scars behind as well as Dodger and the Bonfamille family sans Thomas O'Malley and Scat Cat. Every single pair of eyes in the room was wet and glistening, save for Chiara's and Madame Adelaide's.

Finally, Jiminy murmured tremulously, tears now sliding down her own face as she vainly tried to brush away Pinocchio's own, "Oh, Pinocchio- *PINOKE*...! *I'm so sorry*, 'piccina'; I didn't know. *I WISH* I'd known somehow, 'gattina'...! *Oh, PINOKES*- forgive me. Forgive me; *forgive me for NOT BEIN' THERE*! *PLEASE forgive me*, Pinocchio..."

"*'F COURSE I forgive ya*, Jim'ny!" the other sniffled, managing just a brief star-flicker of her usual sweet smile that JUST reached up to her swollen red-rimmed cerulean orbs for eyes and caused them to transiently sparkle with warmth and love. Then it fell away quick as it came, her face contorting anew while her eyes welled up yet again, then brimmed and overflowed to run down her formerly-rosy cheeks in a stinging salty stream as she fell back heavily onto Jiminy's shoulder and breast again, being readily cradled in return.

Her outburst of tears was more silent this time save for a sharp intake of breath or sniffle now and then, but still she was gently rocked back and forth while Jiminy stroked her hair and crooned gentle shushing noises and soft sweet words of comfort, assurance, and love into her ear even after the semi-storm of raindrops slowly began to ebb away- ocean waves lapping gently against the shore instead of smacking rock and turf with all their might.

"Jim-Jiminy?" Her voice was now weak, watery, and more than a little scratchy and hoarse from crying so much as she tiredly raised her head up just enough to face her best (semi)human friend and former conscience.

Jiminy's heart twisted painfully at the sight before her while gently placing a hand under Pinocchio's elfin chin. The poor girl's beautiful orbs for eyes as blue and bright as stars were rimmed with red and shining from tears, and her soft smooth skin usually either naturally rosy or pale as snow was striped and splotched a rough red where it wasn't wan and ashy- her sweet-lipped expressive mouth salt-swollen and often trembling. She was a broken doll- a broken angel whose large sweet warm heart had now been shattered *THREE times* after beloved members of her family had been killed right before her eyes, accident or no...
A string-poppet seraph whose birth mother had not only coldly and cruelly abandoned her, but had *torn her away from her elder sister* just after her father's funeral and will-reading- *VIOLATED* his last wishes for his girls to stay with remaining family! *Torn HER* away from the young girl's side after both of their wishes were granted via that same angry unwilling because SHE *HADN'T gotten her way* faerie, when 'piccola' Pinocchio still needed a conscience for a little while yet even after white-pinewood turned to flesh-blood-and-bone...

"Hmm? Yeah, Pinokes? -What is it, 'miele'?" she hummed softly.

Another whimper and sniffle as Pinocchio roughly wiped at her eyes. Then with a soft ragged heaving sob- "...What do I do now?? How- How can I go on, after what happened? I've seen dark b'fore, but *not like THIS*. This is COLD- *empty*- *NUMB*... This grief has *a GRAVITY* that pulls me down- can there be a day beyond *THIS night*?? I don't know anymore what's true 'n what's not...
"-How do I rise from th' floor, when it's not either *him or her* that I'm risin' for...?"

Jiminy blinked back her own tears as best as she could while pressing soft gentle kisses to Pinocchio's head, brow, and temple. "You- You jus' *do th' next right thing*- take a step, then step again. Don't look too far ahead just yet- break it down to th' next step, one at a time as you walk through this night, stumblin' blindly towards th' light..."

"And with the dawn? *What comes THEN*, when it's *PAINFULLY clear* that NOTHING will *EVER* be th' same again...?"

"It's just- It's just all ye can t' do th' next right thing, Pinoke. I know tha' you feel like ye canna find yer direction, -but jus' like b'fore, ye have a star guidin' ye along the way. *You are not alone*, 'cuoricina'- I promise ye..." Jiminy whispered soft and sweet, tenderly brushing her thumb over Pinocchio's damp cheek.

'Twas merely a faint flicker of heat rather than the fierce yet gentle stream of Heaven's Fire night before last, but it comforted Pinocchio immensely all the same as much as Jiminy's warm embrace. "*Stay*- *PLEASE stay*...! *Please don't leave me again*..." she couldn't help but plead, burrowing her small thin fingers into the front of Jiminy's nightdress and robe while subconsciously giving her kitten eyes.

"'M not goin' anywhere, Pinoke honey- stayin' *right here*. Where I always b'longed, never mind what SHE tried t' do..." Jiminy shushed kindly, stroking and rubbing Pinocchio's slightly shaking side while bestrewing warm tender kisses more balmy than fevered up and down her cheek. "Seems like y' need a conscience for a little while yet- yes?"

"*ALWAYS needed you*- *ALWAYS*...! *Missed you SO MUCH*- 's much as Father, Figgy, Cleo ....and now Z-Zi-Zietta Ad-Addy."

"Missed you SO. *DANG*. *MUCH* too, 'occhioni'... Cried my eyes out for a week 'n three days after we got separated by your *BITCH* of a 'madre'- excuse my language."

When the 'gendarmes' came to pick up and arrest Edgar Balthazar and Elvira Blanchett for rape and murder, Jiminy got a good punch in each of their faces before *KNEEING them* further down after Chiara *slapped them HARD*. Then the cats plus Roquefort gave the former servants a nice long scratch, and Frou-Frou made sure to kick them good and hard into the paddy wagon before they were driven away and the coroner's carriage approached for Madame.

Pinocchio swallowed back her tears up until her dear sweet 'zietta' was also taken away for preparations in a week's time. Then once the door closed shut and locked, she crumbled and fled to her own room, throwing herself onto the bed and weeping her heart and soul out. This time, it was Zia Chiara who cradled the grieving 'ragazza' to her breast and held her safe and warm in a tender gentle loving embrace while crooning sweet words to her, Oliver and Berlioz curling up in purring balls beside her while nuzzling and licking her face.

She didn't sleep well in the least, every so often waking up shuddering and shaking with her screams, pleas, sobs, cries, keens, and bawling howls muffled by a pillow, then crying herself into exhaustion into Jiminy's shoulder and chest as she was tenderly rocked and sung softly to, her cats', Roquefort's, and Dodger's soft warm fur further somewhat soothing her when their pelts brushed against her skin. And 'twas the same for every night after for a while- she very rarely had even *REMOTELY good dreams*, and they were bittersweet at most. -At least Father and Zietta Addy were together again; after all, they'd missed each other and loved each other *so very much*...!

Chapter Text

The day of Geppetto Bonfamille-Tommaso's funeral had been fairly sunny, though not too much. By contrast, though it was not raining in Paris, the dark grey clouds certainly threatened to do so soon if not later on that night. And as this was a more noble service than the other, there were much fewer bright splashes of color even here and there, and the only rare instances of color were purple, mauve, or lavender if not shades of grey or white when not black.

Both Madame Adelaide Bonfamille's and Monsieur Georges Hautcourt's caskets were carved out of gleaming mahogany, and both etched and painted with imagery of cats, music notes, and an opera mask or two; the insides were plush reddish-purple. They were dressed in their finest and best, her dress and his usual deep emerald coat almost matching. Madame Adelaide's beautiful long white hair fell becomingly over her crystal-goblet shoulders and down to almost the small of her slender back instead of being put up in its usual pompadour. They seemed peaceful, yet sad ...which was rather fitting, given how they had so horrifically passed on.

Again, there was no organ playing a dirge in the church. Instead, a record player played all of the songs from the operas that Madame Adelaide had performed in- the tearful ballads, that is.

"-Leaving behind a grieving niece who was as much like her own child as her beloved 'chats'. We must comfort her."

Damp salt stung Jiminy's eyes sharply as she reached out for Pinocchio's hand. She gently took a hold of it, and then just as softly squeezed it, hating how *cold* that small 'paw' felt, when it was usually so warm- whether white-pinewood or flesh-blood-and-bone. Pinocchio clasped and squeezed back, trying her best for a brave smile even though her big blue orbs for eyes were both dark-circled and reddened as well as shining from a fresh coat of tears.
She was all in black again, though her mourning dress this time was slightly finer, and 'twas that of a young woman rather than a child. Though she still wrapped a dark shawl over her head instead of adorning some kind of bonnet. Jiminy was clad in a shade of purple so dark that it was practically black with touches of slate-gray at her neck, waist, and the ends of her sleeves, and Zia Chiara was wearing deepest navy.

*Her family's fault*- This was HER. *FAMILY'S*. *Whole damn fault*!!! Ohhhhhh, Jiminy *LOATHED* being related to someone *so SICKENING* and HORRID who had brutally emotionally and psychologically scarred a sweet innocent young girl by way of not only murdering her beloved aunt, but also *RAPING* her beforehand in front of aforementioned young girl!! Someone who had made her 'Pinoke' *sadistically sob* while tears flowed like *the SEA* down her face as though her big heart of pure gold and soul as clear and blue as her eyes would not merely BREAK, but *SHATTER*...

Bless her sweet little heart, Pinocchio hadn't much cared in the least about hers' and Edgar's being related by blood, even after what had just happened! 'You're *so much more* *DIFFERENT* than HIM, Jim'ny. Not just in a *GOOD-different* way, but in *the BEST* way! I *KNOW* for a *solid fact* that you would NEVER EVER hurt me in any way- especially on purpose...! Same as Zietta Duchess, 'Louse, Marie, Berly, Ollie, Mr. Scat Cat, Mr. O'Malley, Mr. Roquefort, and Ms. Frou-Frou, too.'

That didn't stop Jiminy from feeling *HORRIBLY guilt-ridden* and SHAMED, though; given that she was unfortunately part Balthazar by birth. And Marie still occasionally gave her the 'stink-eye' for the little crime of being related to HIM, as she was doing so right now from a pretty white-furred tear-streaked little face and swollen puffy sapphire-blue eyes. (She was careful to only do so when her parents and siblings weren't watching, though.) The former quasi-cricket couldn't even find it in herself to feel even a little hurt from that- deep down, she felt like she *DESERVED it*, one way or another...

When came The Time, one last song played sweet and sad on the gramophone while Pinocchio shakily closed the casket lids, her dear beloved 'zietta' and her funny kind old-time friend were lowered down into a deep hole in the ground, and said holes were filled after roses of every color were tossed in. It was a song that Madame Adelaide had written just recently, and this was the very first time that it was being played in public. Raw tears filled Pinocchio's eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she and the others listened to Adelaide's sweet low voice, and she couldn't help her bottom lip quivering a little as her soul *HURT* and broken heart splintered just a little more.

~We met, it seems,
Such a short time ago;
You looked at me,
*Needing me so*!
Yet from your sadness,
*Our HAPPINESS* grew-
And I found out
I *needed YOU*, too...!

I remember
How we used to play...

I recall those rainy days-
The fire's glow that kept us warm;
And now, I find,
*We're BOTH ALONE*...

'Goodbye' may seem *FOREVER*-
'Farewell' is like *the END*;
But *in my heart's* *the MEMORY*-
And THERE, you'll *ALWAYS* be...~

There was a quiet instrumental broken through only occasionally with a bi-gender choir sorrowfully harmonizing- then a repeat of the last verse via both the chorus and Madame Adelaide. Duchess sobbed and buried her face into Thomas's shoulder, Toulouse swallowed hard, Berlioz kept swiping at his eyes with his long dark plume of a tail same as Oliver, Marie shuddered and shook, Roquefort blew his nose into a tiny handkerchief, and a teary-eyed Scat Cat AKA 'Satchmo Crazy-Legs' placed his black red-ribboned bowler hat over his own broken heart out of the utmost respect while Thomas quietly bowed his ginger head. Almost subconsciously, Jiminy bent herself into a respectful curtsy, as though to somehow make up for the complete and utter *DIS-respect* that this lovely inside-and-out lady and her dear friend had had doled out to them while being heartlessly ravished and murdered by Madame Adelaide's own much-trusted butler and cook-maid...
Chiara did the same alongside Regina and Nova (clad in deepest red and darkest blue respectively). Pinocchio's shattered heart, meanwhile, both sobbed and whispered '*I love you*...!'

~'Goodbye' may seem *FOREVER*;
'Farewell' is like THE END-
But *in MY HEART'S* *the memory*,
-And THERE, you'll *ALWAYS be*...~

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

She and her feline family did their utmost to pay attention, but the rest of the service and funerary luncheon was more-or-less a blur. They ate just enough to keep people from worrying, hardly hearing the lords' and ladies' words of genuine condolence yet perceiving them painfully clear as crystal.

"Poor child- we feel for you. *So TRAGIC* to see you on this *DREADFUL* occasion, when this should have been one of your HAPPIEST days as you began the process of courting...!"

"Our hearts *WEEP* for you, 'Piccola Pina'- and your 'cher chats' who were Madame Adelaide's only beloved treasures until you came along after your 'padre' unfortunately passed away himself."

"Poor thing... *Poor thing*-!"

Many different kinds of cologne and perfume filled Pinocchio's nose whenever she was engulfed in a hug or her hand was gently shaken as the guests come to pay their respects left. It should have made her feel dizzy and nauseated, -but there was only a glimmer of such, she was enshrouded in such a thick greyish-white fog that felt both damp and dry, and cold as ice. Almost numbly, she followed Zia Chiara to the kitchen where the Blue Faerie herself was piling dirty scraped-off dishes into the sink filled with soapy water after putting on an apron, and she soon did the same.

(Jiminy did not follow her, somehow feeling and knowing that she would want to be with what little blood family she had right now- take comfort in such, draw some kind of condolence from Chiara's warmth and quiet strength as much as her tender arms encircling the younger female, and her mild hands gently caressing Pinocchio as though she were her own child. The feline branch of the Bonfamille family plus Roquefort and Dodger sensed this as well, letting both Belmagio-Tommasos have some much-needed quiet time alone together.)

"...'*Mamma mia*'! Seems like those people didn't eat for *a WEEK*, 'stellina'."

"They've- They've never tasted *YOUR cookin'* or bakin' b'fore, Zietta Chia."

"Hmm, no; that's true... Where's Lady Jiminy? Usually, she sticks to your side *like GLUE* same as young Berlioz and Oliver."

"Um... Uh- I- I think they- they wanted to, y' know ...g-give us some time alone t'gether."

"-How very thoughtful of them," Chiara finally coughed out, starting to wash the dishes before handing them to Pinocchio to dry and then put away. It suddenly splashed over her like a particularly large wave of cold water that other than Cleo, she herself plus Niccolo, his wife Sofia, Dafne, Nina, and their parents, she was now *the ONLY* person whom 'Little Woodenhead' was related to by blood, *NOT counting* She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Or-Talked-About once known as either 'the Scarlet Faerie' or 'Cleo del Mar, the Crimson Nightingale of Esperia'. Geppetto was now gone- and so was his elder sister Adelaide; both of whom Pinocchio had loved more than *the WORLD* TEN TIMES OVER, and they just as much for her.
Geppetto's and Figaro's passing had been a tragic accident ...but Madame Adelaide's and Monsieur Georges' were done so by *MALICE FORETHOUGHT* in an attempt to steal her vast fortune which would now be left to her sweet young niece. SHE had *deliberately abandoned* the literal doll of a girl, and had tried to place a bet on her which could have turned out *DISASTROUS* on poor Pinocchio's and Geppetto's end. '*Da Dio*', *she herself* was more of a mother to Pinocchio along with 'Donna' Duchess and the warm kind caring woman whom 'Nocchi had called 'Zia Addy' than Ilaria Belmagio...!!

"-Why did she somehow help h-hi-*HIM*, and not- *not me*?? *Not ZIA ADDY*??" Pinocchio's voice usually as sweet as honey and light as a dove's feather was small, watery, and hurt, and it made Chiara's warm heart pang. "*Why did she help her KILL and d-de-def-DEFILE 'la mia dolce zietta e la sua gentile amico divertente'*...?!"

'*OW*, *my HEART*...' A teardrop landed warm and salty on Pinocchio's small thin shoulder. Chiara felt her face start to turn red and blotchy again, but she. Didn't. Give. A. Damn. *None whatsoever*.

"Oh, Pinocchio... My bright shining little star- whether by magic or nature, she's *HEARTLESS*, much as I LOATHE to admit such, being her sister." Her own timbre was kind, but sad. And it caused an even more immense wave of sadness to wash over Pinocchio as her fractured riven heart churned inside her, making her feel as though her semi-birth mother had slapped her HARD across her face and scratched her with her long red nails.

The dam broke once more, and Pinocchio collapsed into a small chair beside the hearth, sobbing so hard that she could hardly catch her breath. Then Chiara's warm gentle arms were around her small frame, and before the former live stringless marionette knew it, she was crying even harder (if that was possible) into the Wishing Faerie's neck and both fiercely and desperately returning her loving embrace. Chiara wept silently along with her, while Pinocchio whimpered, wailed, keened, and mewled into her shoulder and chest the whole time, their bitter tears mingling together same as their light golden and raven-black locks of hair- and it took a good while before Pinocchio's tears even began to desist.
But eventually, the very last teardrop had to fall. And when it did, Chiara gently tilted Pinocchio's chin up with one hand so that blue eyes could meet with blue eyes and tenderly stroked her slightly feverish forehead and cheek as she queried quietly, "...Are you alright, 'dolcezza'?"

"-How can I ever be *REALLY alright* again, 'Zia Chiara'? After- After wh-what happened to my other 'zia' in- *in front 'f me*? *She's GONE*, just like Father- MR. GEORGES is gone, and I'll never see either 'f them again! Neith- Neither w-will Zia's cats..." Pinocchio sniffled, sounding both stuffy and hoarse as well as nothing less than *MISERABLE*. "How- How can we be happy again *WITHOUT her*?? How can we *go on* without her??? We all miss her *SO MUCH*...!"

Chiara delicately brushed her thumb over Pinocchio's moist tear-blotched cheek and pressed a soft sweet kiss into her dark hair while giving her a gentle hug. "I know- I know you do, little woodenhead. I *know* just how much you and yours' and her feline family miss her, and there is *NO SHAME* in that whatsoever, my dear sweet niece. You *LOVED* her- she loved you all back just as much, and that is why you feel alone and desolate even in a crowd of thousands.
"My poor little Pinocchio- you WILL all find happiness again someday. No- it doesn't seem that way right now ...but 'per favore' trust me on this, at least; *you will*."

Pinocchio did her best to take comfort in Chiara's words while breathing in the sweet soothing heart-warming scent of bluebells, violets, freshly-baked bread, ripe lemons, and blackberries gently wafting from her fair skin and golden hair and cuddling close in her safe warm embrace as the Blue Faerie softly sang into her ear, gently rocking the former puppet back and forth on/in her lap while rain finally gently drummed against the windows and thunder quietly rumbled.

~"It's so hard to lose the one you love,
To finally have to say 'goodbye';
You try to be strong, but *the PAIN* keeps HOLDING ON,
And all that you can do, is *CRY*...

Deep within your heart, *you KNOW* it's time to move on
When the fairy-tale that you once knew is *GONE*...

When the last teardrop falls,
I'll still be holding on to all our memories
And all of what used to be-
When the last teardrop falls,
I will stand tall
And know that you're here with me *in my heart*
When the last teardrop falls...

So now I'm alone,
But life keeps moving on-
But my destination's still unknown;
Will there be a time when I *fall in love AGAIN*,
When I was meant to walk these lonely streets ALONE??

If there was just *ONE wish* I could be granted here tonight,
It would be to *have you back right by my side*...!

Now it's time for me to find my happiness again-
And the *EMPTINESS* from missing you
Will NEVER EVER *end*...

When the last teardrop falls,
I'll still be holding on to all our memories,
And all of what USED TO BE-!
When *the LAST* teardrop falls,
*I will stand tall*
And KNOW that *you're here with me IN MY HEART*-
*When the last teardrop falls*..."~

Chapter Text

Well, one small thing that more-or-less stayed constant, at least: Pinocchio's bedroom was peaceful as pretty much always. There were touches of snowy-white here and there, but rather than excessive lace and one or many different shades of pink, the main color of her walls was a hue of blue that was soft, cool, bright, and warm all at once. Grey was a color usually thought to be either depressing, dull, or both, but aforementioned color tinting her surroundings alongside blue and white was a soft soothing shade of grey- like a blend of heather, chimney smoke, and silvery-hued pearls. Her stars-and-roses satin-velvet bedspread was a deep grey-blue, her sheets and pillowcases literal mulberry silk, her guanco canopy curtains were purest sapphire, and her bedstead, vanity table, matching chair, desk, bookcase, chest of drawers, wardrobe, and nightstand were all carved of and from silvery white cedar, with triple moons, cats, lilies, willow branches, and phoenixes etched onto them.
The rug on the floor was a soft ashy gray, and the cushioned window-seat made for a nice comfy place to sit and read or simply watch the world go by, if not a chair out on the balcony.

Pinocchio drew in what comfort she could from the room that had been hers' ever since she'd been forcibly moved from Pariva to Paris before and after removing her funeral clothes and donning a linen-flannel nightdress of the palest green touched here and there with modest borders of lace and accented with a slightly deeper green silken ribbon at the neck and wrists despite the semi-early hour. It caressed her skin like a soft breath of a sigh, and eased her aching soul and broken heart just a bit more. Then she sank down onto her bed, though didn't yet climb *INTO it* under the covers.

Melancholy, loneliness, and grief once more throbbed painfully deep within her soul, both mirroring and mocking her heartbeat as she wrapped her soft thin arms tightly around her as though to ward off the chill gusting over and into her core. Another sharp fierce 'pang'- her eyes stung and moistened in doleful response. Inside herself, she was screaming, wailing, sobbing, and howling into the heaviest swirling snowstorm; the echoes of her own anguished cries resounded faintly yet clearly in her head...

Just then, there was a soft gentle knock at her door. A *RESPECTFUL knock*-

"Pinocchio? Pinokes?? It's- S' just me, yer old friend Jiminy. M-May I come in?"

Pinocchio's throat was so dry and tight that it took three swallows plus a lip-lick for her to reply quiet and hoarse, "Uh- Uh-huh."

There was a beat or two- then a slightly red-eyed and more pale than usual Jiminy Cricket nervously slipped in, gently closing the door behind her.

"H-Hello, Jim'ny."

"'Lo, Pinoke. P-Pinocchio- 'tesorina', could- could ya sit up for me, please? We- We need to- I have to- I-I hafta tell ye somethin' *awful important*, honey."

Even though it felt like a struggle, Pinocchio obeyed, still hugging herself but making sure to at least lightly cross her ankles and straighten her spine as much as possible. Jiminy brought the vanity chair over to the bed and sat down herself there, letting loose a heavy groaning sigh that was almost a sob as she rubbed at her eyes and temples. Clearly, whatever Jiminy had to tell her, it was weighing on the elder female *VERY heavily*- *near-crushing* her, even- and Pinocchio was very concerned and worried.

"What- What is it, Jiminy?? What's wrong? Wh-What d' ya HAFTA 'n *NEED to* tell me?"

Now Jiminy's deep dark violet eyes both flashed with angry lightning and welled up with tears of sorrow, regret, betrayal, and love, and she began to tremble in rage, humiliation, and sadness while clenching her elegant hands into tight balls of fists. Her whole entire BODY LANGUAGE screamed and sobbed '*I'm sorry*!!! *I'm SO SORRY*! *PLEASE forgive me*...', piercing a now slightly-frightened Pinocchio to her very core.

"-Tha' *DAMN BASTARD* I unfortunately call 'Uncle' had another ace up his slimy sleeve. For one 'reason' or another a while back, he wrote up *a contract of BETROTHAL AN' MARRIAGE* between a *Balthazar an' a Bonfamille* since my 'mammina dearest' had written t' him complainin' aboot my bein' so 'plain' an' 'ugly' that NO ONE would *EVER* want t' court an' *marry ME*. And since he didnae know what I was like, assumed that I would be just as *DISGUSTIN'* as he an' my parents, ...he arranged this unbreakable espousal deal b'tween his niece and Madame Ad-Adelaide B-Bonfamille's niece.
"*I'm sorry, Pinocchio sweetheart*- *I'm SO VERY sorry*...!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another kick in the stomach and leg-swipe that knocked the breath out of her- but 'twas more of a icy-cold splash of water to her face rather than a slap, punch, or scratch even though she'd still gone the hue of a freshly-washed Egyptian cotton sheet and her heart was pounding against her breastbone. She felt both a chill of frost and flickering lick of fire tingle over her small frame, but *DIDN'T feel* a burning urge to scream or strike at Jiminy. Not even *a little bit*.

"It's- It's not- It's *NOT* *YOUR fault*, Jiminy. YOU have *NOTHIN' to apologize for*! It's *HIS fault*- THEIR fault; *theirs' completely 'n entirely*, the slimy sneaky money-grubbin' scumbags!"

Jiminy had been fully prepared to cower and plaster herself up against the wall while shielding her face and torso with her arms as Pinocchio shrieked, spat, and hurled things at her while calling her every terrible awful cruel name under the sun- a reversal of The Revealing Scene in Gaston Leroux's 'The Phantom of the Opera' between Erik and Christine... But even though sweet 'Little Woodenhead' was just as trembling and white as herself with wide-blown eyes, there was not even the faintest spark or flame of anger, fury, disgust, or hatred in those beautiful, wondrous, luminous welcoming soft blue orbs for eyes set in a once-literal doll-face framed by a flop of silken thick raven-black bangs and curtained by a matching sheen of jet that tumbled over her small shoulders and down her slender back. *Not towards her*- *NEVER EVER* towards her...

"*Pinocchio- Pinocchio*... 'il mia cara dolce bella ragazza- la mia bambola vivente ancora' (my dear sweet beautiful girl- my living doll still) ...you- you FORGIVE ME? Just- *Just like that*?" she breathed in awe, wonder, and tender amazement that *ENGULFED her* as a different kind of tears swam in her heliotrope eyes.

Now Pinocchio gave her a *LOOK*, leaning forward a bit. "*Jiminy Hadriana Sebastian Cricket*, what kinda silly question *is THAT*?! *OF COURSE I forgive ya* 'just like that'! *I love you*- I love you ALREADY, 'n you love me back th' same way; so even though h-h-he sorta kinda wins, he also *LOSES BIG-TIME*. *He HAS LOST BIG-TIME*, *PERIOD*, from th' start!"

The tears shimmering in Jiminy's eyes trickled down her pale cheeks, and the non-tortured ghost of a smile candle-flickered slowly over her slightly quivering lips- a mouth that many would have cruelly called '*DEAD*' if not just plain *UN-kissable*, set into a 'heinously homely' face along with her 'unremarkable' dark eyes and 'near-absensce' of a nose. She didn't know what to do other than fall on her knees, take a hold of the skirt of Pinocchio's nightdress, and bury her face into it for a good few minutes before reverently and sweetly kissing the hem- then kissing her little feet the same way as her tears gently sprinkled them like a warm spring rain.

Their tears didn't mingle, and Pinocchio's own didn't flow and splatter soft onto Jiminy's pale forehead or trickle between her lips- but one or three still leaked down the younger 'donna's' snowy cheek tinged a light rose, and her small porcelain-doll hands came up to gently cup the back of her conscience's head and tenderly caress her straight and semi-fine silken blonde hair more flaxen-straw than the most precious ore or the sun's rays. She didn't ask or beg Jiminy to get up, even though she was *absolutely NOT* one's servant, slave, or serf. She simply let the former quasi-cricket cry, clutch, and kiss, and held her close while she did so; knowing that she *NEEDED this*, *NEEDED* to do this, after what had been so HEINOUSLY AND HORRIBLY done to the Bonfamille-Tommaso family at *HER family's blood-stained hands*-!

But presently, she slipped one hand into Jiminy's own and gave it a gentle tug, urging her to *PLEASE* *get up now*. Now 'twas *the TALKING CRICKET* who obeyed more than willingly, sweetly taking a hold of 'Little Lotte's' other hand into her own once she'd risen from the floor as soft bright blue star-lit pools and deep dark glistering purple lochs met, mingled, and locked. It was *the HEIGHT* of impropreity, Pinocchio only wearing a nightgown while Jiminy was still fully-dressed when they were still both unmarried- but, oh, *who cared*?? *WHO CARED* right then and there??!
They were *engaged via contract* anyway, and already in love with each other- had carried a steadily-burning torch for one another *for YEARS*...!

~'They'll *DIE*, Jiminy!!! *They'll DIE*, FAINT, *scream*, *or SICK UP* if you dare to kiss someone either on the lips or elsewhere, you're *so MONSTROUS* as a girl shouldn't be, girlie, or if THEY would *EVER* wanna *kiss YOU*!!'~

Martin's and Myrna's cruel nasty words were *put to paid* when as Jiminy rose to her feet as asked/pleaded, Pinocchio's apple-blossom lips pressed themselves soft and sweet to her forehead- then her nose- then her cheeks. Their stolen gold coins and rare paper money were stuffed even further into their carping greedy mouths the moment that upon Pinocchio's shyly putting out her own forehead 'like a living bride', Jiminy kissed that sweet alabaster brow- the brow of her angel; ran hot tender kisses up and down her warm once-more rosy cheeks, playfully and sweetly fluttered a butterfly onto that adorable charming unique elongated-button nose...

Not cold- not bony- smelling *of LIFE*, *NOT EVER* DEATH. Not *HER hands*- slender, elegant, semi-callused, a little cool, less green than they had been; the hands of her conscience, Phantom Angel, 'amico', and 'amada', now cradling her face as Pinocchio's own were doing.

Long, hard, full, yet soft, sweet, warm, and tender was their second kiss. It gently melted into another... and then other; more chaste and passionate by turns until they *HAD TO pull away* in order to truly breathe. But once enough air had been gulped in and down, they dove back in, Jiminy's long fingers tangled into Pinocchio's long raven hair and Pinocchio clutching at Jiminy's lean shoulders as now their mouths opened wide against one another's hot moistened kiss-softened lips, tongues touching, sliding, and dancing wild and sweet. Lost in the soul-kiss, Jiminy moaned as if in great pain while Pinocchio whimpered and mewled in a near-keen.

Forget 'red-hot'- She was burning *BLUE-WHITE-hot* from the hairs on her head to the tips of her toes. THIS was what poor Erik Phantom had meant when he had cautioned naive innocent Christine, 'But *my DON JUAN*- it *BURNS*...! It *consumes* all who approach it...' Yet the puppet-girl now *WANTED to be burned*- to be consumed while intoxicated by her Angel's music...!

The Victome Raoul de Chagny was nothing more than a dear childhood friend. She might sing for him, sing for the Opera- but she *SANG* *only for her*! '*Fate links thee to me FOREVER AND A DAY*...' But neither the scorpion would be turned or the grasshopper *hop JOLLY HIGH* one day- 'twas *the cricket* who would be turned, and therefore sing, hop, and fly.

She had kissed and been kissed- the angel had *NOT died*. It was enough for now; it HAD TO be enough for now. 'Twas the time of Mourning for 'Mamma Valerius'- further exploration could wait patiently as patient until then, 'mademoiselle'! Jiminy's own conscience scolded her in Erik's voice.

Pinocchio sternly reminded herself of this as well- so they let the fire dim down into embers and still-glowing coals, gently forced the tingling, throbbing, burning, and aching away from their breasts and between their legs as they softly and gently kissed two more times before pulling their mouths apart.

'You're *the SWEETEST* thing I've ever touched and tasted, pretty little Pinoke...' Now Jiminy feathered her lips tenderly over the wet surface of the small raven's skin while nuzzling her cheek. Stirred, shaken, and kiss-dazed, all Pinocchio could do was limply allow the tender touches given to her.

There were questions to be asked- *IMPORTANT questions* ...but they could wait until tomorrow. Moments like these, especially after Earth-shattering news, were too sweet and wonderful to break into.

Jiminy sensed that Pinocchio was tired, so she held her close and used an old trick that her grandpa had used when she was very small- she stroked her little finger up and down Pinocchio's nose inbetween gently caressing her forehead. This plus the comforting steady beat of Jiminy's heart under her ear soothed the young girl until she fell fast asleep. And even though she was already deep in slumber, Jiminy then softly sang to her as though to ward off any nightmares that dared come creeping towards her sweet angel.

~"Nighttime sharpens,
Heightens each sensation;
Darkness stirs,
And *wakes imagination*-
Silently the senses
Abandon their defenses...

Slowly, gently,
Night unfurls its splendor-
*Grasp it*, sense it;
Tremulous *and TENDER*...
Turn your face away
From the garish light of day-
Turn your thoughts away from *cold unfeeling light*,
*And listen to THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT*...

Close your eyes, and surrender
To your darkest dreams;
Purge all thoughts of the life you knew before-!
Close your eyes; *let your spirit start to soar*,
-And you'll live as you've *NEVER* lived before...

Softly, deftly,
Music shall caress you-
Hear it, *FEEL it*
*Secretly possess you*...
Open up your mind;
Let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness which you know you *CANNOT fight*:
The darkness of The Music of the Night...

Let your mind start a journey
Through a STRANGE NEW WORLD;
*Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before*-!
Let *your SOUL* take you where you long to be...!
*Only then*, can you *belong- WITH ME*...

*Floating, falling*- sweet intoxication;
TOUCH ME- *TRUST ME*-
*Savor each sensation*...
*Let the dream BEGIN*-
Let your darker side give in
To the power of the Music that I write:
*The power of THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT*...!

-YOU ALONE can *make my song TAKE FLIGHT*;
*Help me make The Music of- the- Night*..."~

Once the last note floated from her lips, knowing that Pinocchio would want her to be there still when the other awoke, Jiminy transfigured her own mourning dress into nightwear- as soft, silky, pink, lace-touched, embroidered, and pretty as she'd always wanted to feel as much as 'dapper', 'dashing', 'handsome', or 'beautiful', but until running away from the caravan and ended up in Papa Rumple's home had been jeered, mocked, sneered, taunted, and laughed at for. She also conjured up bathrobes and sleep-socks for them both so they didn't catch a chill- and she knew that 'Pinoke' liked to be warm.

Then she got them both fully into bed, pulled the covers up over them, and pressed one last kiss to her angel's temple before surrendering to the Sandman herself.

Chapter Text

The next three weeks were a tear-stained blur comprising of going through and greatly revising/fixing what had practically been a *SLAVE contract* (ohhhhhh, but Jiminy had been *EVEN MORE furious* and sickened there), a revision of 'lady lessons' with Signora Regina and Signora Nova, and the usual sleeping, eating, dressing, bathing, etc. routine whether a tragedy had occurred or not. And true to her word the morning after *THAT Night*, through it all Jiminy stayed where she should have been all along: by Pinocchio's side, if not just in her house in general.

Her adoptive parents Mr. Rumplestiltskin and Mrs. Belle Gold plus her foster brother Baelfire visited once or twice during that time period in order to check up on the flaxen-haired former quasi-cricket and her sweet-eyed raven-tressed young betrothed, and Pinocchio found them to be just as warm and kind as her 'conscience' if not Father, her zias, Zio Nico, or Cleo. They were both also very smart and nimble of mind, 'Mr. Rumple' often having a clever quip ready on his tongue same as his Mrs. Belle's son. At first wary and a bit skittish, the feline branch of the Bonfamille family and Mr. Roquefort soon came to think fondly of the Gold-Crickets- even Marie, who still occasionally gave Jiminy a warning '*I'm watching you*' glance after she and the rest of her family had been told about what that- that- *that TOAD* had so horrifically done yet had *LOST* at given 'Nocchi's and Mam'zelle Jiminy's corresponding love and affection for each other that went *BEYOND* 'just friends'.

Pinocchio barely ventured out from the house except to take garden walks in the morning or afternoon- and if she ever appeared in *PUBLIC-public*, then she wore all black with a dark shawl covering her head and a black veil covering her face. She didn't cover the mirrors or portraits with black crepe (that had never made sense to her unless it was a *ROYAL portrait*), and took her meals either alone or with one, two, or three of her family, any letters she wrote in response to the calling cards on their silver tray also banded in black. All of this symbolizing her separation from her dear sweet gentle beloved aunt and (most of) the outside world.

A traditional Mourning Period for a relative lasted three weeks as opposed to a year for a parent, and Pinocchio half-dreaded once more heading out into a bright highly-societal world in which she had *BARELY* dipped her feet into, much less fully ventured out into the *SHALLOW end* of a pool. She had been *training* for this for three years since she'd come to live in Zia Adelaide's house, yes; she had HEARD THINGS whenever she'd slipped out to market or had been out shopping... but she had only experienced it *in full* for one night- and that night had then been followed by *horror, horror, HORROR* and *TRAGEDY* straight out of a classic horror novel, penny dreadful, or Shakespeare's darker works!

*But JIMINY*- *'grazie a Dio e Cielo'* for Jiminy as well as her tutoresses, Zietta Chia, Berly, Ollie, Marie, 'Louse, Duchess, Mr. Thomas, Scat Cat, Roquefort, and Ms. Frou-Frou!! She was and would be right there for and with Pinocchio through it all- at least *HALF knew* her own way through high society as her adoptive mother Belle had been born a princess, and had schooled her own daughter in such matters and manners. When began again the days of freedom from the 'smothering' rituals of mourning, she would not feel *QUITE so isolated* in the midst of a large gathering- as if she had stumbled into a place where she did not belong...
She had been not just one of Pinocchio's most steady sources of support and comfort, but her *ROCK*. Her Angel- her Guide and Guardian. If not for Jiminy, then Pinocchio would have *shattered COMPLETELY*, and it would have taken her a *VERY* LONG time to heal even half-way!

-Dodger and Oliver, it seemed, were getting fairly close to one another too ...and not just as friends. Pinocchio had been a little iffy at first, but was now completely glad for it. Clearly, this would help Oliver as much as herself- and even if a bit rough around the edges, Dodger was quite a nice person; a *GOOD dog*! (She hoped that one day, the same would also happen for Ollie's siblings, if they wished...)

Such she was musing to herself while tossing and turning in her bed the night just before the Official Mourning Period would be ended, trying to drift her way to the Shores of Sleep yet remaining oceans away. Not only all this, but something else...

Ever since that first kiss and others following the evening Jiminy had told her of The Contract written up by *HIM* as a last-ditch effort to get *ONE Balthazar's grubby greedy hands* onto Madame Adelaide Bonfamille's fortune, the elder female had been respectful and almost chaste with any further displays of affection even if still tender, sweet, and loving. Pinocchio well knew *WHY*, of course ...but now Don Juan's fire flickered and sparked through her veins, heart, and over her soul again as she recalled and replayed both their very first kiss on the night of her coming-out ball and those just after she had assured her beloved conscience that she *did not IN THE LEAST* blame HER for what whom Roquefort called a 'sneaky crooked no-good butler' had greedily concocted, mixed, and then baked until it came out golden-brown. Her heart both pounded and fluttered a little faster and she shifted and squirmed under the covers while that semi-strange *tingling* centered itself in certain places besides her mouth- namely, the buds and areloas of her breasts and every inch of her 'Mount of Venus'.
From skin to bones to *hair* to *MARROW*, she felt like she'd been set aflame as tendrils of not just love but *PLEASURE AND DESIRE* pulsed through her small slender frame, thundering heart, and quivering soul.

She'd secretly touched herself before- explored what was being semi-faded to black and left up to one's torrid imagination either during a private free moment in the day or when she couldn't sleep at night while reading a penny dreadful or slightly more 'forbidden' novel and focusing on the lovely ladies more than the handsome dashing heroes, villains, or side-characters ...or just one of Jane Austen's or Charlotte Bronte's works, she so adored and identified with Marianne Dashwood and Jane herself. And this she could have done again in order to douse the fire and quench her thirst that way- yet 'Nocchi *KNEW* deep within that that would NOWHERE NEAR satisfy her, let alone let her sleep. It was *JIMINY'S touch*- the caressing, biting, suckling, licking of her warm salty-sweet mouth and sure firm tender petting and stroking of her long elegant fingers over her skin, through her hair, *INSIDE OF her* that 'Little Woodenhead' craved and longed for now. Not the simple fleeting touch of an imaginary female protagonist lover or gender-flipped, say, Rochester; *but HER*.
REAL, *real*, real, *REAL*... As *REAL-Real* as she now was and had been for seven years-!

What was her *INNER conscience* telling her??? -Nothing. Nothing right now, soundly and sweetly asleep as she was not. Her HEART, however... Her heart was joyfully and urgently encouraging her to once more rush into her Phantom Angel's arms, because she *LOVED* her.

By her own admission, Jiminy Cricket was no virgin herself -yet she was no female rake, Pinocchio could feel and tell. True, sometimes more than likely *OUTRAGEOUS compliments* slipped freely from her beautiful lips like sweets given to children towards a lovely lady or dapper gentleman ...but she also genuinely liked either gender. Any kind of compliment would be designed to make him or her feel special and beautiful/handsome, whether duchess, duke, scullery boy, or maid. -Yet the way she treated the once literal living doll whom she called 'Pinoke)s)' was especially and extraordinarily loving, her gentle patience during the last fortnight and a week tugging at Pinocchio's heartstrings as she recalled it.

*DARED she* sneak into the other's bedchamber?? -Yes. Yes, she did.

So deciding, she sat up (careful not to disturb Berlioz or Toulouse) and padded on sleep-sock-shod feet to the door, whispering a 'Lumos' and therefore summoning a 'witch-light' to guide her way so she wouldn't be stumbling in the darkness.

Jiminy had one of the guest chambers painted in lavender-lilac and pale-ish green touched here and there with white- feminine, pretty, but understated and not overdoing it. Every single piece of furniture was dark brown mahogany, her bed-curtains were deepest forest moss touched lightly with sea-blue, and her bedspread was the purple of twilight not yet sprinkled even a little with stars shining like diamonds. It was cozy, comforting, and calming...

Strange- Her door was half-open instead of closed. And SHE *ALSO wasn't asleep* either, let alone lying on her bed or under the covers! Instead she was pacing back and forth with the same expression creasing and dimpling her face that Pinocchio had earlier mirrored while trying to get to sleep herself. She was either biting or rubbing her teeth over her bottom lip, her hands clasped mostly tight behind her back...

Just then, she caught sight of Pinocchio out of the corner of her eye, and she jumped, practically chirruped as well as semi-quietly yelped, and stood up straight while brushing a non-gloved hand over and through her let-loose tumbles of silken straw-blonde hair. "P-Pin-*Pinocchio*???" she rasped before coughing and querying in kindly concern despite still clearly fighting back panic and the *FIRE* racing through her veins, "Wh-What're ye doin' here?? Wh-What's th' matter, 'cocca'? Did- Did ya have a real *BAD dream* again?"

Pinocchio licked her lips and swallowed hard, either clutching at or rubbing her right arm, doing her best to focus on the 'problem' at hand yet not being able to help raking her eyes over, up, and down Jiminy's tallish lean frame now only covered by a pretty *VERY short-sleeved* nightgown as well as her underwear. Her chest ACHED, 'tits' tingled further, and the secret place between her legs *THROBBED* as she observed the gentle swell of her Angel's own breasts beneath snowy-white cotton blended with silk- her slender shoulders and hips- her lean waist...

"I- I- I just couldn't sleep. I mean, I *tried*-! N-No luck, though."

Pinocchio flushed near-red as a result of Jiminy's own dark violet gaze caressed her from head to foot even though she clearly tried to wrestle *DEEPER* feelings back. Her own nightdress was modest enough at the neck and chest, yet dipped *justalittle*, and her arms and shoulders were completely bare save for thin 'spaghetti' straps; the fit a bit more molded to her body in order to cling to her torso and sometimes her legs yet still comfortable.

"Aww- poor 'gattina'. *YOU couldn't get t' sleep* either, huh?" Jiminy crooned yet chuckled ruefully.

Pinocchio shook her head in agreement.

"*GUILTY, Pinokes*. -Why couldn't *you* drift off though, honey?"

*Pinocchio GULPED* nervously before letting a flickering yet clear picture of their past kisses including their *Very First* flash through Jiminy's mind, as well as her fears, worries, and concerns about venturing back out into the world of High Society that she had BARELY waded/swum through only for one night, with or without her beloved Zietta Addy, and how tenderly, gently, and kindly Jiminy had treated Pinocchio ever since she'd fully come back into the former puppet's life.

A sharp shaky intake of breath which made Pinocchio nervously bite her lip ...then a *PULSE* of *love, love, LOVE* and *sweet aching desire* drew her forward to the elder female like she still had strings attached to her until mere inches separated their bodies. Jiminy slid the palms of her hands up Pinocchio's arms, gently rubbing and caressing the silken snowy flesh. "*Oh, PINOCCHIO*..." she breathed, her warm-to-hot sweet breath gusting the younger female's cheek and lips, making her shiver. "Y-*Ye're SURE*, 'dolcezza'? A-About THIS?? I don't- I don't wanna *HURT* 'r *SCARE ya*, 'mo chride'..."

In response, Pinocchio placed her own palm against Jiminy's cheek, stroking a thumb over the much-less green apple of it while smiling soft, sweet, yet sure as her blue orbs for eyes shone and glowed like the Wishing Star. "*One hundred and ten-percent, most honestly honest, truthiest truthiness ever*, Jim'ny-'amore'. I- I don't want t' scare or *hurt YOU* either, 'ma ange'."

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

Assured both ways, their bodies touched from chest to thigh ...then Jiminy's arms tenderly wound around Pinocchio's thin waist as one head dipped and another lifted before their lips claimed one another in a long langorous soulful kiss, the soft scents of Christmasy white pine and broader forest earth and air mingling as much as their mouths. Pinocchio's other hand clasped the back of Jiminy's head, her fingers brushing and threading through her flaxen locks. They tasted one another's lips with a series of light strokes, then took each other's mouth with searing vigor, parting moistened lips with slick tongues and then plunging inside to further savor the sweetness of one another's mouth.
All they could do was mold against each other, *ENGULFED* as their kiss scorched them yet didn't leave one harmful mark behind while their tongues swirled and slid in a mating dance.

Eventually, they had to pull away for air. Dazed and feeling almost drunk, they gazed into each other's eyes- velvety deep dark violet melting into warm bright cerulean-blue soft as a forget-me-not flower yet as clear as the sea. Almost subconsciously, they nuzzled noses and cheeks, Pinocchio shivering yet thrilling when Jiminy's palm and fingers brushed over her backside and hips. It was just as *WONDERFUL* a feeling as their breasts pressed against each other and thighs touching...

Jiminy took a gentle yet firm hold of the straps of Pinocchio's nightgown and then slipped them off of her small pale shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her feet. Her breath caught and shuddered at her sweet 'bambolotta's' even-further beauty shyly yet eagerly displayed: her flawless small pert milk-white breasts tipped with pink mini-rosebuds of nipples- her tiny slender waist that was NATURAL and not brought about via the force and squeeze of a corset- her barely-there but gently rounded hips ...her smooth Mount of Venus lightly furred with soft(ish) black hair and *slippery wet* with SLICK also revealed once her drawers were slipped off as well.

"*My God*..." she near-whispered hotly. "Sc-'Scuse my language, but yer fuckin' *BEAUTIFUL*, 'bebe'...!"

Pinocchio blushed the shade of a tea-rose. "Th-Thank you, Jim'ny," she uttered through a soft squeaky bashful giggle. "Can- Can- I mean, m-may I take *YOUR nightdress* off now? Pl-Please?"

"*Go right ahead*, Pinocchio-mine. Touch an' look at ME all ya want, baby girl..."

Permission more than gladly given, Pinocchio touched the waist of Jiminy's nightgown before tugging the garment up over her head and then helping her to shuck it off. A bit more shakily and with a nervous rubbing bite to her lip again, she then pulled down and tugged off the elder female's underwear, a strangled sound between a squeak and a moan bursting from her lips at the sight *and SMELL* of her conscience's own gold-dusted *WET* nether regions. Jiminy chuckled in amused tender fondness at the sound and sight of flushed hot cheeks.

"Like what ye see, my little star? I know *I* do..."

All Pinocchio could do was nod her head while standing up and letting her hands trace over Jiminy's silken-soft lean feminine body.

Puppet followed puppeteer once more- this time to Jiminy's bed proper, where the blonde laid the raven down before trailing slow drugging kisses along Pinocchio's neck, shoulders, and collarbone, licking, nipping, and sucking at the salty-sweet pine-pale skin. Pinocchio squirmed, moaned, and gasped in Jiminy's hold, *LOVING* the feeling of another female's FINALLY touching and intimately kissing her in the other's bed. Her breath caught and she whimpered when Jiminy's fingertips glided over her nipples and her palms cupped her turned-heavy breasts, squeezing and playing with the virgin feminine flesh and rubbing or lightly pinching the sensitive buds.
She *near-sobbed and whined* upon feeling Jiminy's mouth, tongue, and teeth soon mirroring yet not her fingers' movements, throwing her head back as her hips bucked. *Jiminy- Jiminy- Jiminy*- *oh, JIMINY*!!"

"Oh my 'dolce piccola' Pinocchio- *you taste and feel SO GOOD*..." Jiminy moaned into her flushed heated skin. "Such *PRETTY* perky breasts an' cute pink little nipples... an' such a *GORGEOUS* cunny ye have, baby girl! Wanna touch it *SO BAD*- wanna do SO MANY *BAD things* t' ye; make ye *cry, scream, moan, and whine* while pleasurin' you until you cum into my mouth or on and around my fingers- or on *MY cunt*..."

Pinocchio's tongue and mouth burned sweet as she whimpered and keened out curses as blue and purple as their eyes in response. Jiminy chuckled darkly-sweet again, sensing what her little doll *NEEDED*.

"Gonna *ROCK YER WORLD* and *break ya*, my pretty little Pinocchio ...but I'll help you put yerself back t'gether afterwards, sweet. *FINE conscience* I'd be if I didn't-!"

With that, she pressed their mounds together while plunging her fingers inside Pinocchio's HOT *SLICK* tight hole, tearing through her hymen like a marionette string snapping. She stroked and thrust in and out, also rubbing their pussies together alongside.

Pinocchio whimpered and mewled as she grappled for and grasped Jiminy's hips, moving her own in time with her lover's fingers as their breasts crushed together. "Ohhh, ohh, *ohhhhh*....!! That's- *That's SO GOOD*," she moaned, tears prickling her eyes. "You're makin' me feel- *AH*!! M-*Mmmn*..." Fire FLASHED through her being when *their CLITORISES* touched and rubbed fierce and fast.

"F-*Fuck*!! '*CAZZO, Pinocchio*'!!!" Jiminy hissed with dazed hot eyes, moving her hips and fingers faster. "Yer *so TIGHT*, hot, an' WET- yer clitty's *SWOLLEN*! Ohhhh, 'Dio', you're *DELIGHTFULLY THRILLING*, sweetheart-! More so than any 'f my other lovers..."

Soon Pinocchio gasped and whimpered, letting Jiminy know, "-Gonna cum now, aren't ya, my lovely? C-C'mon, Pinoke baby- *THAT'S it*, little woodenhead. C-*Cum for me*!"

Jiminy thrust her hand *HARD* and rocked fierce yet sweet against Pinocchio's clit- and that was *IT*. Their backs arched and eyes squinched shut yet blew wide as Pinocchio sobbed and cried out Jiminy's name and Jiminy keened and moaned while biting into and sucking hard at the sweet girl's neck. *They GUSHED* hot and wet together while tangled up in one another's soft bodies, shaking and trembling.

Then, when the 'geyser' tapered off, they drew one another back into a series of soft sweet kisses, the fire quenched for now but sleep still a ways off. That was alright, though- they were no longer alone and *ACHING*, either apart or together under one roof. Jiminy Cricket and Pinocchio Belmagio were *IN LOVE-in love*- no longer playing games or pretending. The bridge had been crossed, and they happily stood and watched it burn to ashes...