He doesn't. [Marco smiles, small and sheepish, in a way that makes it clear this is a subject he's embarrassed to mention, even with Fiddleford.] So... See, that's why I think he likes you. It's not a problem, I don't have to work on it.
[Maybe he's softening Luigi's words a little bit by implying that what he does is mention "problems" Marco needs to "work on". Maybe.]
[Yeah, that... that's a little worrying, reading between the lines of what Marco's saying to the implications behind them. Fiddleford doesn't comment on it. It doesn't seem necessary, or kind.]
Well that's... that's good.
Marco, y'know, whatever he says -- I think you're doin' just fine. Really.
[Marco forces a smile - it's just a bit too wide - and looks down at a spot just in front of his feet.]
He's not here anymore, you see, so he has knowledge that we can't-- we can't even imagine. He... might be a little harsh sometimes, but... he has the right to. I know he's just trying to save me.
i didn't intend the thread to go this way but you know what
[This is always a difficult topic of discussion. It all sounds so far-fetched, but Fiddleford knows spirits are real and has known since long before Ryslig. On the other hand the core concept of Marco hearing the voice of his dead father, the father he murdered with a broken table leg, is inherently disturbing. He just isn't sure if it's more disturbing as a paranoid delusion or a real otherworldly presence. His opinion on this changes daily.]
What does he say? Normally? You -- you don't have to tell me if you don't want. Just -- it might help me understand thins a little better. If I'm pryin' too much I'll let it be.
[His muscles tense, a bit as if his body wanted to withdraw into itself without actually moving. He doesn't want to tell Fiddleford, no. Not at all. But he doesn't want to hurt his feelings, either.]
He, he's just... looking out for me. Don't worry about it. He wouldn't hurt me.
[The way Marco talks about it doesn't honestly inspire much confidence, but Fiddleford doesn't want to push him. It wouldn't help. So instead of saying more he carefully, cautiously scoots himself closer to Marco. It's fine. It's safe. He leans their bodies together and it's a little awkward and a little unwieldy because he's ready to pull back at any moment but it... it's okay. It's okay.
In barely a few seconds he goes from the bare minimum of contact to practically trying to inhabit the same space as Marco. God, he needed this.]
[Flat as the response might sound, the look on Marco's face when Fiddleford scoots closer is completely genuine - a little surprise and, then, warmth. Relief.
It's very fortunate that his father hasn't said anything about Fiddleford, Marco finds himself thinking, because if he had, then he wouldn't know what to do.]
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[Maybe he's softening Luigi's words a little bit by implying that what he does is mention "problems" Marco needs to "work on". Maybe.]
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Well that's... that's good.
Marco, y'know, whatever he says -- I think you're doin' just fine. Really.
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[Marco forces a smile - it's just a bit too wide - and looks down at a spot just in front of his feet.]
He's not here anymore, you see, so he has knowledge that we can't-- we can't even imagine. He... might be a little harsh sometimes, but... he has the right to. I know he's just trying to save me.
i didn't intend the thread to go this way but you know what
What does he say? Normally? You -- you don't have to tell me if you don't want. Just -- it might help me understand thins a little better. If I'm pryin' too much I'll let it be.
hoo BOY
He, he's just... looking out for me. Don't worry about it. He wouldn't hurt me.
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[The way Marco talks about it doesn't honestly inspire much confidence, but Fiddleford doesn't want to push him. It wouldn't help. So instead of saying more he carefully, cautiously scoots himself closer to Marco. It's fine. It's safe. He leans their bodies together and it's a little awkward and a little unwieldy because he's ready to pull back at any moment but it... it's okay. It's okay.
In barely a few seconds he goes from the bare minimum of contact to practically trying to inhabit the same space as Marco. God, he needed this.]
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[Flat as the response might sound, the look on Marco's face when Fiddleford scoots closer is completely genuine - a little surprise and, then, warmth. Relief.
It's very fortunate that his father hasn't said anything about Fiddleford, Marco finds himself thinking, because if he had, then he wouldn't know what to do.]
Thank you.
[That, too, is genuine.]