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

[peccatore]

"I... did wander a lot, I'll admit. But-- But it did lead me here. So I guess it's not all bad."

Huh. Marco seems a lot more at ease than he was in the lobby.

[reddenedgalaxy]

You got to meet Agnes...

...are you... close?

[peccatore]

"She's my best friend."

[reddenedgalaxy]

I'm glad... you have her.

[She may not be meeting the real Agnes, but it's nice to know Marco actually does have a close friend back home all the same]

[peccatore]

"... Me too."

"It is only a brief snippet," Agnes cuts in, "but if you would like to see something else that happened here..."

[reddenedgalaxy]

Show me.

[peccatore]

Agnes and Marco both smile fondly, and the background blurs.

When it coalesces into a solid shape again, Marco and Agnes are sitting at a table; he's gripping a book, staring it down intently. Squinting.

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Mysterious book... Mordi scoots over to get a look at it.]

[peccatore]

It's... a penny dreadful?! Maybe not the best learning material... but that may not be the only reason Marco is struggling so visibly, not only squinting, but searching for a proper viewing distance.

He doesn't wear glasses yet.

[reddenedgalaxy]

...he needs his glasses.

[she says, as if that's going to impact the memory scene in any way]

[peccatore]

Guide Agnes nods. Luckily, it doesn't take long for Desk Agnes to reach the same conclusion and retrieve a pair of glasses she apparently had in a drawer. It doesn't suit Marco terribly well, but it helps. He still reads somewhat haltingly, but at least he's not squinting anymore.

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Mordi giggles softly.]

[peccatore]

"What's so amusing?" Agnes seems to be asking genuinely.

[reddenedgalaxy]

His glasses... aren't very flattering.

[peccatore]

"Yes, well. He had to make do for some time."

Already, this memory is fading. It seems there wasn't that much to see...

Their surroundings take a little longer to solidify this time, but once they do, Marco is sitting alone at a desk in a sparsely-decorated room. He's writing a letter, apparently.

"... Ah, this would be..." Agnes says, "... after he set out on his own again."

[reddenedgalaxy]

...how long... was he with you?

[peccatore]

"Hm... Fifty years or so, perhaps...?"

[reddenedgalaxy]

[for a 16 year old that is SUCH a long time.]

You helped him... mor than I thought.

[peccatore]

"I suppose... he had grown tired of wandering for so long. But then, he wished to seek new opportunities."

[reddenedgalaxy]

You gave him the strength... to live on his own again.

...He thinks very fondly of you.

[peccatore]

"I... would not be here if he didn't."

Are you going to read the letter, Mordimort?

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Of course she's going to take a peek! This is what she's here for. To help.]

[peccatore]

It seems he's written a decent bit! Marco keeps writing, but even though he doesn't move his lips, his voice reads it all out...

Dear Agnes,

I believe I am finally settling, despite my wretched timing (as I mentioned previously). Even in this short time, I have hopes that the economy is starting to recover. Maybe unfounded? I have tried to read some theory, but I have to admit it's somewhat tedious.

Regardless, I have carved myself a little niche in this city. I work most nights as a pianist. The pay is enough, and I am getting by, so please don't worry. (You are worrying! I know that you worry.)

I do miss your company and, yes, your supplies. As of my writing, I have worked out a method. Much like the piano playing, it is working, and I am getting by...

[reddenedgalaxy]

I didn't know you played piano...

[peccatore]

Marco glances back at her and whispers, "Oh, I-- I'm just decent."