@midnight-fantasm, for William!
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His pocketwatch was beginning to take him some very odd places, Pinocchio decided. Ordinarily, the Moonphase Watch only had two functions.
It allowed him to travel directly to any active Stargazer.
It would automatically turn back time around him if he was damaged to the point of being nonfunctional, until he was at optimal condition again.
At no point had Pinocchio considered it could do things other than those two things.
Maybe it was all the Ergo he'd absorbed. Maybe it was evolving alongside him. At the end of the day, he supposed it didn't matter, because now, instead of Krat, he was... here. In a city that clearly didn't have issues with Puppets, and Ergo, with Carcass monsters and half-feral scavengers.
He still had his weapon on him, though. And to him, it simply made sense to have a weapon on him. What if he got attacked? What if this was a part of Krat that simply had gotten very lucky in avoiding being damaged? He didn't know.
And he often got attacked by people hoping to ambush him and steal his resources! It was smart to remain armed.
So, with those thoughts in his mind, he strolled out into the street - unbothered by the gasps, the looks, and the whispering. People always acted odd about him, it was no bother to him.
As he walked, he found himself looking around. Turning his head, turning his whole body, fascinated by the sights around him. Everything was neat and tidy (compared to the Krat HE knew) - no bodies, no monsters, no rubble, just people and shops and plants, and he tapped the luminescent blue Ergo crystal at his waist, acting purely on a whim he didn't care to understand yet, muttering;
"Look, Romeo." The stone could not look, and did not think. He did not let it stop him. "It's happy." The city. The people. Not about him, clearly, but in general. It made him feel content. A city that did not require aid, didn't need him to defend himself from every little beast that caught wind of him.
For a while, he simply wandered. enjoying the sights and sounds of a city with no worries - or, more mundane worries than getting food while avoiding death-by-monster. But within short order, he was accosted. By... people. In uniforms. They were very upset with him, and his prosthetic - gently convulsing as it always did - seemed to only make things worse.
They seemed unsettled by him as a whole - unsettled by his weapon, his prosthetic arm, the way he moved, and even his silence.
They wanted his weapon - he did not want to give it. They were in the open, where scavengers and beasts and rogue puppets could strike at the slightest opportunity. He was, however, more than willing to go along with them - leading to what was probably the tensest walk to what Pinocchio assumed was their base, that the men had probably ever experienced. Did they not have weapons also? Why was he not allowed to have one? What was wrong with being cautious? Monsters could attack at any time!
It was almost like none of these people had ever had to defend themselves against criminals and beasts before.
When they entered the building though, the mood changed. No longer was having his weapon an option - with painful reluctance (he quite liked that spear, regardless of him being in a safer area) he parted with it. And to his budding frustration, he himself was placed into a cell.
They did not take his arm.
He did not tell them it, too, was a weapon.
Maybe if he waited long enough, they would give him his spear back? Or he could break out later and just... take it back.
So for now, he sat politely withing the cell - mimicking the movements of piano playing, both to entertain himself, and to keep his prosthetic from convulsing in the way that it did when he was particularly idle.
He did not bother to see how his captors were reacting.
It did not strike him as important.
