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

[want_not]

[tilts his head and sniffs a little, then glances back at Marco]

. . . well?

[waiting for him to lead the way]

[peccatore]

"Uh, well--"

Marco has a look on his face like the way forward is obvious, but he's not going to say that. He just starts following the scent and makes sure Mithrun is following.

[want_not]

[he follows! he was pretty serious about trying to make this Marco Leading The Way]

[peccatore]

The scent - and, by extension, Marco - lead to a building with a thick, dark window that's difficult to see through, but the sign outside labels it as an apothecary.

"... Ah, right. So this is..."

It feels... really strange to do this given the way things have worked for everyone else here, but Marco decides to just open the door and step inside - where Agnes is waiting at the counter, wearing clothes that must have been outdated even on the day this originally happened.

Also, she's almost definitely standing on a crate or a chair.

[want_not]

. . .

Oh. You're here.

[peccatore]

"As I said I would be," Agnes says. "Now, how exactly is this going to work? Are we to play out the events of this memory?"

"... Well," Marco starts after a few seconds of silence, "That seems a little unnecessary, to be honest."

Though he's clearly at a bit of a loss, he turns to Mithrun and tells him:

"This is where we first met. Agnes and I."

[want_not]

If you want to play it out I can watch . . . but I don't think that's necessary . . .

. . .

You could—tell me more about how you. Became friends?

[peccatore]

Marco nods, then visibly hesitates before he even starts saying anything.

"Did you... notice the smell?"

[want_not]

There is one.

[peccatore]

"Right, well, that's human blood. A lot of it."

"In the back," Agnes says.

"This is relevant," Marco adds in a hurry.

[want_not]

That's what I figured.

[peccatore]

Marco smiles nervously.

"So, er. As, as you might have also guessed, I was... very hungry when I wandered in here. And I didn't speak the local language very well yet."

"He looked like a stray dog," Agnes adds bluntly.

[want_not]

Did she feed you scraps?

[peccatore]

"... Not quite, actually." Marco smiles fondly. "I suppose she's the type to take pity on stray dogs, even though you'd never guess it just from looking at her."

[want_not]

She earned your trust, so I'd believe that.

[peccatore]

"It's... funny that you should put it that way." His smile turns sheepish. "Somehow, I feel like I'm the one who had to earn her trust."

"... Mithrun is absolutely correct." Agnes stares unblinkingly at Marco, who seems caught off-guard by the observation even though she is, by all accounts, just some part of his own head. She continues, "I'm hardly as 'human' as you prefer to pass yourself as. Had I not earned your trust, you would see me as a monster. Wouldn't you?"

Marco's expression falls.

[want_not]

Monster is a . . . complicated word.

[peccatore]

"... It's what I've thought of myself as for... for most of my life, I think."

[want_not]

Easy to . . . distance to yourself.

Make something—monsterous, other. Anyone that falls in that category can be vilified.

[peccatore]

Marco doesn't seem to know what to say to that. Instead, it's Agnes who says, quite matter-of-factly:

"But he did it to himself."

[want_not]

Well . . . maybe.

[peccatore]

The question comes from both of them now.

"Maybe?"

[want_not]

[Mithrun gets that expression he gets when he's aware that explaining something is going to take effort and investment and maybe he should just lie down on the floor about it]

[but he takes a breath and shakes his head to clear it, straightening a bit]

We're . . . affected, by the things that happen to us. And the world around us.

I used to think—things about tallmen, humans, and other shorter-lived races that just. Simply aren't true. Things about myself, and other elves, too. I didn't—come to those conclusions on my own. They were taught to me, and demonstrated, and . . . reinforced.

[peccatore]

"... Ah." Marco nods. "I see what you're saying."

[want_not]

. . .


Do you?