[Puzzle 011]

[hisapprentice]

[It's early in the morning, and there's a commotion. The village knows about this commotion because things are scattered in the scuffle, including Luke's journal. It thunks onto the floor of the apartment, open and 'on' enough to record...well.

The sounds of a scuffle.

Bangs and clangs and the occasional mechanical whirr or someone shouting (classic noir American accent or subtle/overt British one, take your pick!) and the end result is a nice, spread-out flurry of chaos.

In which one of the people living in the apartment is no longer there.

After a while, there are footsteps; it's Luke trudging over to pick up his journal and gingerly talk into it.]

Um. They came and...took Czes- Benjamin. [Not without a fight!] Maiza and Professor Layton and I tried to stop them, but it- it didn't work. Sorry. [...] Maybe he won't be gone for long.

[[ooc: Those replying may get an answer from Luke, Maiza, or Layton! Depends on who's got the journal at the moment, and who's off trying to clean up the mess in a dejected manner.]]

Comments

[immamartillo]

That makes sense, I guess.

[He rocks back on his heels, thinking for a moment.]

...I should probably try doin' that too, shouldn't I?

[contaeoro]

If you want to. I think you can treat him whatever way is most comfortable for you.

[immamartillo]

[He shakes his head. Czes is a part of the family, Firo owes it to him to try and treat him how he wants to be treated.

Even if he is a real brat sometimes.]

I think I'll be fine either way. I just gotta get used to it.

[contaeoro]

You're a flexible fellow. I'm sure you'll be fine. Czes, on the other hand, is a little stubborn.

[immamartillo]

[Recalling their recent arguments, Firo scowls.]

He sure is. Sometimes I feel like he's not even listenin'.

[contaeoro]

Oh yeah? How so?

[immamartillo]

Well, we were... talkin' and no matter what I said he'd just say I was wrong even though I wasn't. He didn't even give me a reason or anything!

[Normally Firo being wrong would be the most likely explanation, but that was a conversation about family and trust; he can't accept that he'd be wrong.]

[contaeoro]

I'm not sure I see what you mean. What were you talking about?

[immamartillo]

[He bites his lip, he'd been trying to avoid getting into the details.]

...He said I couldn't trust Ennis.

[contaeoro]

[He raises an eyebrow.] Did he now? Did he tell you why?

[immamartillo]

No. He just gave me some crap about how you can know somebody for years and you still won't really know 'em.

[contaeoro]

... Well.

[He puts down whatever he was carrying in his hands at the moment. Straightening up, he turns to Firo and waves his hand a little, as if weighing his thoughts in it. Kind of like when Layton explains things; perhaps it's starting to rub off already?]

Whether you can trust someone or not aside, deciding whether you do trust them or not is something only you can decide. I lied to you and everyone else about... what I was, for years. If you hadn't drunk that elixir by accident that night, all of you would've died because of me. Yet you still keep me around, and I seem not to have lost your trust.

[immamartillo]

[Firo immediately regrets bringing this up; he had hoped Maiza had stopped feeling guilty about all that. It was ages ago! He blinks and steps forward, too concerned to consider his words before he speaks.]

What? But all that wasn't your fault! Szilard's the one who tried to kill us, and even if you had told us you were immortal it woulda' been a bit hard to believe!

[He shakes his head, realizing that he's getting off track.]

I'd never lose my trust in you--none of us would.

[contaeoro]

[It may have only been a moment ago for Maiza. He's silent for a few seconds before he smiles at Firo, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head a little.]

Thank you, Firo. But not everyone can be like that, I don't think.

[immamartillo]

[Baffled, he shakes his head slowly.]

What do you mean? I know you can't trust everybody, that'd be stupid. But you can trust family!

[contaeoro]

[Maiza shakes his head in response. People grow to be products of their environment. Firo grew up up with the Martillos, and he was in his thirties by the time he left his house. Czeslaw was little, and who knew what he saw over the last two hundred years?]

I think for Czeslaw, becoming able to trust us as family is what's difficult.

[immamartillo]

You think so?

[Come to think of it, he knows very little about Czes's life before or after the Advena Avis. Had the Martillos not welcomed Firo to their Family, he probably would have grown up into quite the bitter adult; he has to wonder if Czes has never had the same opportunity that he did.]

...Then how do we make him trust us?

[contaeoro]

You can't make people trust you. You've just gotta let him take his time, and know that it might be years until then. Time seems slow for folks like us.

[But not one to let Firo stay down, Maiza pulls his face into a grin and reaches over to give Firo's shoulder a strong pat.]

Just be a friend to him, for now.

[immamartillo]

Time...

[He looks up when Maiza pats his shoulder and nods. Firo can be patient, if it's a cause as worthy as this.]

All right. I'll do the best I can for him.

[He won't say it, but Czes's standoffish behavior makes him worry that this might be difficult.]

[contaeoro]

I won't tell you it'd be easy, but I'm sure he'll come around someday.

[He pats Firo's shoulder again and looks around.] Well, it looks better than earlier.

[immamartillo]

[Well, if Maiza says it... Firo's face brightens.]

Yeah, I'm sure he will.

[He looks around, the place does look like less of a battlefield.]

You think so? Is there anything else we gotta do?

[contaeoro]

I don't think so, I believe we've got it all. Thank you for your help, Firo.

[immamartillo]

No problem--just gimme a call any time, you can count on me.

[contaeoro]

[He nods, knowing this is true even without Firo's reminder but appreciating it all the same.] Thank you.