[Oh, he's just going to spill his guts right here and now to Marco isn't he? He doesn't want to, but after his last visit to the Fog, things are so overwhelming. He puts his hands over his face.]
They brought back Boone. I want to know who did it and... why
[Marco didn't know Boone very well, but even if he did, he doubts he could do anything at all to help. Just like he said, he knows nothing; heck, with the general skill level he displayed when trying to handle the situation, he's kind of surprised he didn't get himself killed yet again.
[The nephilim looks... ashamed. If he was going to break down to anyone, he'd rather it be Lust or Lup, but Marco just happened to be in the line of fire.]
[He runs a hand down his face, letting out a slightly more strained sigh.]
[Marco steps aside, signaling at Egon to come in. His grudge may be incredibly long-lasting... but it just wouldn't sit right with him to leave Egon standing out there looking like that.]
[The nephilim nods, stepping just inside the doorway and wherever Marco guides him. It takes a little bit of ducking, but he does make it inside. Nice place they have here.]
[He won't ask you to offer a cup of coffee or something. His feathers ruffle slightly, fumbling a cartoonishly small looking half-empty box of cigarettes from his pocket.]
[Well, that's fair. Even in the eighties people were starting to lose tolerance for smoke in every indoor space. He shrugs, following Marco out to the Veranda before lighting the paper in his mouth with a spark of electricity from his thumb.]
... How long have you two been together, Marco? You and Fiddleford.
[The answer that comes to mind first - the easier one - is how long they've been married, but that was just... a formality, right? Well, no, it was more than that. It was sweet, and meaningful, and right. But it certainly wasn't when they got together.
He needs to think. If he's been here for, god, four years now...]
[It's the second time in a short while that somebody has asked him something similar to this, and considering how much Marco hates to think about it, that isn't... thrilling.
He raises a hand to refuse the cigarette, stiffly polite.]
[... A community. With all that's happened between them, Marco has just about forgotten the time period Egon comes from, and in that moment, a pang of guilt hits him harder than he's ready for.]
I didn't know him very well. So I don't really know if that's... a fair assessment or not.
[He liked to forget. Egon wasn't particularly outgoing, but he'd had enough of being belittled in his life time. At least here he could be judged for, say, accidentslly turning people into animals- something under his control.]
I don't know if you two would have gotten along, but he was quite respectable.
[And then he glances back to Marco and frowns.]
Look, Marco, I didn't mean anything personal before, before.
[It may be hard to tell if Marco is being standoffish or if he's just... uncomfortable. He leans on the railing, looking out to the lake. Or beyond it, maybe.]
[That's a surprisingly comforting thing to hear here. The nephilim nods, finishing his cigarette before putting it out against his butt on his massive left arm, allowing it to disappear into the folds and tentacles before starting another.]
I'd worry, knowing how you feel about fog followers. My research into both gods comes before all loyalties though.
[He may be reading too much into it. Maybe Egon didn't mean it that way. After all, no matter whether he realises it or not, Marco has become hyper-vigilant when it comes to the things he needs to work on.
Regardless, there is one thing that immediately springs to mind.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I know we aren't on the same side, and that you don't trust me, but my goal isn't to turn anyone in at this point.
no subject
[Although... Yeah, he understands why someone would assume as much.]
no subject
But do you know who? Or how? Why? At least one of those.
It's not something effecting just one group this time.
no subject
no subject
[Oh, he's just going to spill his guts right here and now to Marco isn't he? He doesn't want to, but after his last visit to the Fog, things are so overwhelming. He puts his hands over his face.]
They brought back Boone. I want to know who did it and... why
no subject
... However.]
Egon... [He sighs.] Do you want to come in?
no subject
[He runs a hand down his face, letting out a slightly more strained sigh.]
If... If you don't mind.
I'm sorry.
no subject
no subject
Thank you. I know its not your concern.
no subject
Can I get you anything?
[... He's kind of unsure whether to head to the living room or the kitchen now.]
no subject
[He won't ask you to offer a cup of coffee or something. His feathers ruffle slightly, fumbling a cartoonishly small looking half-empty box of cigarettes from his pocket.]
Do you mind if I smoke?
no subject
[Whoops. Basic sympathy can't beat lingering distrust every time.]
no subject
[Well, that's fair. Even in the eighties people were starting to lose tolerance for smoke in every indoor space. He shrugs, following Marco out to the Veranda before lighting the paper in his mouth with a spark of electricity from his thumb.]
... How long have you two been together, Marco? You and Fiddleford.
no subject
[The answer that comes to mind first - the easier one - is how long they've been married, but that was just... a formality, right? Well, no, it was more than that. It was sweet, and meaningful, and right. But it certainly wasn't when they got together.
He needs to think. If he's been here for, god, four years now...]
I guess... three years. -Ish.
no subject
[He considers for a moment before offering the merman a cigarette of his own, even more cartoonishly small in his hands than the box was.]
What would happen if Fiddleford just... was gone one day?
I'd not threaten either of you unprompted, of course. Purely hypothetical. You know how this place operates better than I do.
no subject
He raises a hand to refuse the cigarette, stiffly polite.]
I don't know.
no subject
[He'll take the cigarette back and put it away, exhaling smoke that sparks as it comes out of his mouth, turning clear and white as he purifies it.]
I didn't think I'd find a community, ever. Especially not under circumstances like this.
Boone was a good man, too good for someone like me.
no subject
I didn't know him very well. So I don't really know if that's... a fair assessment or not.
no subject
I don't know if you two would have gotten along, but he was quite respectable.
[And then he glances back to Marco and frowns.]
Look, Marco, I didn't mean anything personal before, before.
no subject
[It may be hard to tell if Marco is being standoffish or if he's just... uncomfortable. He leans on the railing, looking out to the lake. Or beyond it, maybe.]
I don't... think you're evil, either.
[It's definitely discomfort.]
no subject
I'd worry, knowing how you feel about fog followers. My research into both gods comes before all loyalties though.
no subject
Regardless, there is one thing that immediately springs to mind.]
... I still come across that way, do I?
no subject
But that's not what I came here for. It was about the fallen bodies, and now it's just me here sniveling.
no subject
... I've genuinely been trying not to be so... hostile, you know. It sounds like I have to work on it some more.
no subject
Not many people you can always trust here. I follow the fog because I like my new body and I had someone to be close with I wouldn't have had before.
...why do you dedicate yourself to Elias, if I may ask?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)