Happy international women's day to everyone, i hope everybody has a good day where they remember how important they are and that they celebrate togheter with the women important in their lives.
Here is a Little contribution for the lies of p fans to this day!
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Romeo learned about the day weeks in advance. Not because anyone told him directly — but because he overheard someone in town mentioning it while he and Carlo were out on a mission. The moment he understood it was a day meant to celebrate women, his first thought was Lea… and then immediately you.
He spent an embarrassing amount of time at the flower stalls.
He bought flowers for Lea first, something soft, bright, the kind she always liked. But for you he was much more careful. He walked from stall to stall, comparing colors, scents, shapes, until he finally found your favorite flowers.
He went to a little bakery and asked the old woman there to wrap something sweet and delicate. He didn’t even care what it was, as long as it was beautiful and soft and special.
But the hardest part was the note.
He spent hours writing it. Scrapping one version. Then another. Then another.
Paper after paper crumpled beside him until he finally wrote something that made him smile shyly to himself.
When he gives it to you, he’s blushing slightly, scratching the back of his neck, trying to look casual.
But the note is full of soft poetry.
Lines about how you make even the darkest places feel warm.
About how the world seems kinder when you’re near.
About how lucky he is that you exist.
He watches your reaction carefully, hopeful like a boy waiting to see if he did well. He will either take You out on a Nice romantic walk or Stay at home. Either way You are getting pampered, no doing dishes or cooking or washing clothes, today is about You and he is at Your Beck and call.
Carlo also buys flowers for Lea. Of course he does. She’s his master, and Carlo understands loyalty.
But the bouquet he buys for you?
He carries it proudly, like a trophy, clearly pleased with himself for finding something so extravagant. The flowers are rich, bold, impossible to ignore.
And that’s not the only thing.
He buys something expensive too — a bracelet, a necklace, something flashy enough that people will look at it and immediately know it wasn’t cheap.
Not because he thinks you need it.
But because he wants people to know you are his.
He’s not as openly sweet as Romeo. He doesn’t write poetry.
Instead he casually says something like:
“Come on. I’m taking you out.”
And suddenly you’re somewhere nice — a café, a quiet restaurant, somewhere with lights and warmth and music. Carlo leans back in his chair watching you laugh, watching you smile.
That’s what he really wanted. Seeing you happy.
He pretends it’s nothing, but the proud little smirk on his face says otherwise.
P learns about the holiday beforehand and quietly prepares.
Flowers in Krat are rare now. Very rare.
He walks through ruined streets, abandoned markets, places no one else bothers checking anymore… until he finds something small but alive.
Maybe a delicate little plant growing between stones.
He brings it back carefully, as if it’s something fragile and sacred.
If he can’t find a flower, he brings you a trinket instead — something small he knows you like. Something he remembered you looking at once.
And on that day, for once, he does not rush out into Krat. He stays at the hotel. The whole day is yours. If you want to talk, he listens. If you want to play cards, he sits with you.
If you want to rest, he stays nearby.
He doesn’t make a big speech.
He simply shows it by beeing present.
Low Humanity P has absolutely no idea what International Women’s Day is.
If he sees other men giving you flowers or gifts or even hugs, he immediately walks over too, wanting to do the same.
If someone explains the holiday to him beforehand, then the next morning you wake up to a quiet knock at your door. When you open it, he’s just standing there. Holding something. Maybe a tool he found useful, Maybe a shiny object.
You barely have time to process it before he suddenly steps forward and hugs you.
You might be half asleep and startled, but the gesture is so genuine it’s impossible to be mad. After that he will leave without saying anything, but might start bringing things randomly until he understands that It's just a once a year thing. You kind of get used to opening the door to see him there.
Real Boy Carlo… doesn’t really care. At least that’s what he says.
But maybe one day he finds a book lying around the hotel. Something random, something human.
“Today is International Women’s Day.”
He stares at the line for a moment. Later he shows up with a gift.
He places it in your hands with that strange, crooked smile of his.
“Yeah. That’s your gift.”
You’re not entirely sure if it’s a joke, a threat, or some strange twisted attempt at giving something meaningful.
Whenever he comes back later, his eyes immediately look around for the hand. Just to make sure you kept it.
Again If You accept it he might be happy in his own strange way and might give more or tease asking if You would want a real hand next. If You Say yes even out of curiosity then yes, he will Bring one.
The Nameless Puppet can’t celebrate anything on his own.
The only way he participates is if someone gives him something that once belonged to you — something he had given you when he was still human. If he doesn’t recognize it, he simply holds it quietly or breaks it and simply moves on with his day
But if he does recognize it…
He immediately looks around for you, searching the room, confused and restless. If you’re not there and the item looks old, worn, neglected, the item of a dead woman, he grips it tightly in his hands. Doesn't matter If you are dead before he turned, or died after him, or Simply alive and just somewhere, a part of him still feels the dread of a lost
Taking it away from him is dangerous, especially during battle becomes dangerous because he will stop everything just to grab it again. It îs a strategy to take it and throw IT away as he will go after it leaving him vulnerable a bit.
But if someone breaks it?
Something new and terrifying appears. A grief he doesn’t understand. A rage that feels endless. His attacks become faster, stronger — like something inside him is screaming without words.
And whatever is left of that thing he will still hold each piece.
