Marco's Heart

[peccatore]

You find yourself in a bright white, circular room. It's nearly empty; too bare, almost clinically so. But the bareness of it means that what is visible here stands out:

A podium in the center, where a familiar figure sits, head buried in his hands. Three paths running from the podium to three different spots near the edges of the room - not corners; circles don't have corners - where three doors leading seemingly nowhere stand with no regard for their complete lack of structural support.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where you are, does it? You only have to decide where to start.

Comments

[sangwhine]

So. Not simply wanton slaughter.

[peccatore]

Marco opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before he finally manages to ask, not quite in disbelief but more with the air of someone realising they should really have been trying to fit the round peg into the round hole rather than the square one,

"You were trying to help me?"

[sangwhine]

Are you dense? That's what I just said.

[peccatore]

"... Apparently I am extremely dense, yes. I've been realising this."

[sangwhine]

Well. Now that we're all on the same page. I'm going to try to find a way out.

[Stalking down that third path]

[peccatore]

"Wait! W-Wait."

Lord, please let him manage to convey this without pissing off Ambrose.

"That, that door over there - The memories there, they're... nice. Mostly. Are you okay with... seeing those?"

[sangwhine]

[He glances at the door, then back at Marco]

Will that lead me out of here?

[peccatore]

"I swear, if I knew, I'd just tell you."

He huffs.

"Why don't you try to-- I don't know. Think about waking up? Or, or pinch yourself?"

[sangwhine]

Is it really that simple? If I just pinch myself I'll—

[He pinches himself demonstrably and promptly vanishes]