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

THE DOOR OF THE ORIGINAL SIN

[peccatore]

You are barely halfway to this door when you start to hear them, and two thirds of the way when they come into view.



Try as you might, you can't make out their features any better than this. The light and shadow of this room are incongruent with the light and shadow that hit and bounce off of them, and they don't seem to move when you're looking at them. Despite this, you get the distinct sense that they are looking at you.

"Here comes one of his friends."
"Is it a friend? Let me see, my love."

[eudaimoniac]

[. . . he bows to them]

[peccatore]

The slim shape and the broad shape exchange words.

"Tsk."
"The poor man."
"At least he was clever enough not to be fooled by our son."
"At least there is that."

... They don't seem to have an opinion on Adrien's manner of greeting.

[eudaimoniac]

I don't think Marco has been trying to fool me, has he?

[too_cleverfox]

[a blink, before he stands up straighter out of habit.]

Hello, are you... Marco's relatives?

[peccatore]

The slimmer form gasps, then bows deeply.

"My, what noble bearing! Yes, yes, I am his Mother."

The other one bows, too - respectfully, though not quite as deep.

"I am the Father."

[too_cleverfox]

[he bows his head a little too]

Ah. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both.

[pyrrhicviktory]

[ Viktor squints, trying to see their faces better even though he knows well enough that it won't change anything ]

... Good day to you, sir and madam.

[peccatore]

Indeed, it's no use. No matter how hard you look, nothing about them will coalesce into the image of a real person.

"Oh, this is..." The slender form - the woman - speaks first.
"The scientist." Then the other one. "Our son admires him so."

[pyrrhicviktory]

... There is nothing to admire about me.

But never mind that. I wish to help, if you will let me.

[sangwhine]

Why hello there. You must be dear Marco's parents.

[peccatore]

Their tone - both the woman's and the man's - takes no time at all to turn cold.

"Oh."
"It's the other one."
"He said he wanted to be friends. He really said it..."
"Lord, forgive our foolish son. His soul hangs on by a thread...!"

[sangwhine]

[Ambrose barks a sharp laugh, stalking closer, his hand hovering to a dagger at his hip]

The other one? That's quite impolite. I have a name. Surely you know it?

Re: THE DOOR OF THE ORIGINAL SIN

[turntoash]

[After trying to close the other door on Kaphlar so he doesn't follow her, Ashwyn approaches this door. These figures are... really unnerving her - she can feel the hair rising on the back of her neck.]

Uh... hi. Yeah, I'm- I'm one of Marco's friends.

[peccatore]

Good call, Ashwyn. He would have.

"Oh, she IS a friend," says the broader, seemingly bearded shape.
"Our poor son is fond of her," says the other one. "I wonder what she must be thinking right now..."

[turntoash]

[She sighs. A lot of unwelcome memories are bubbling to the surface.]

What I'm thinking is that I feel really bad for Marco, and that y'all two aren't actually his parents. Least, not according to the guy behind door number three. Y'all are just... something else Marco tortures himself with.

Re: THE DOOR OF THE ORIGINAL SIN

[nevercaught]

"Hello!" Jarlaxle says, cheerfully. "I suppose you are meant to be the guides of this part of Marco's heart?"

[peccatore]

"Yes. Yes, we ARE guides," the more slender form says.
"Aren't you that man who propositioned our boy?" the other one asks, strangely gruff.

[nevercaught]

"I did," Jarlaxle says, with a smile. "He turned me down, but that is quite all right. I have other lovers here."

[reddenedgalaxy]

...

[Odd... but not uncommon in a Spirit World.]

My name is... Mordimort. I'm Marco's... friend.

[peccatore]

"This child..."
"She IS a friend."
"Oh, poor child. Our son means well, even though he deceives you."

They take turns speaking, for... the most part? Sometimes, it's strangely hard to tell which of them is talking...

[queenamongrooks]

[Mal marches over from where she blows right past the apparitions towards the door.]

I don't intend to listen to your nattering, I need to see the rest of these memories before I can give your son a piece of my mind.

[peccatore]

"How rude!" says the more slender of the two.
"This is what you would condemn him for?" asks the other. "For his mission?"

[voidofhearts]

["Friend" status is on thin-fucking-ice honestly, but she's still making an effort to try and understand at least. She approaches the final door cautiously, making sure to stand out of arm's reach of the figures. Last thing she wants is to get pulled in somehow.]

...So you're the ones who told him how to "redeem" himself?

[peccatore]

Despite the lack of any features on their faces, you get the sense that they're looking down on you - judging you.

"We brought him into this world.
"He took us from it."