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

[voidofhearts]

...I don't dislike blood, but it's not quite the same for me as it is for a... regular vampire. Mostly whets my appetite...

[peccatore]

"I see..."

She looks somewhat troubled. Not by your words, but by her inability to help.

... Somehow, you get the impression that's coming from Marco, moreso than Agnes herself.

"My apologies. I am... not sure what else I can offer."

[voidofhearts]

I just...

[there are so many thoughts swimming through her head]

Those men were his... h-his prey. They were already going to die, but they were prey. That's— that's what that was...

[Her voice quivers, but she honestly doesn't sound quite judgmental. She sounds quiet and distant... like she's in a far-off place.]

[peccatore]

"... Yes," Agnes says. Her own tone is neutral, or close to it. "It's... a necessity. A vampire cannot survive on bagged meals alone. ... Not without growing listless and uneasy."

[voidofhearts]

[A slow, small nod]

...I was just... I...

A hungry part of me was... was thinking just how much of a waste them dying like that was. Obviously no one should ever die like that. A life snuffed out is an awful thing, every time. But that's not... that's not what I... that's not why I was...

...And then to see Marco actually do it...

[peccatore]

"... Then, you can rest assured. Their blood did not go to waste."

[voidofhearts]

[she nods, looking sick at the thought]

Was that...

...Was that truly the best option?

[peccatore]

Cautiously:

"It was the best that he believed he could find."

[voidofhearts]

[a long pause]

...They weren't dead yet when he drank from them. They should have turned. If a single bite is all it takes, they qualified.

[peccatore]

She shakes her head. "He drained them completely before their hearts stopped. That would have prevented them from turning."

A pause.

"Before you ask, no. I'm not certain why. Perhaps the curse has nothing to work with if no blood remains."

[voidofhearts]

[She looks down and gulps, before nodding again, still ptocessing all of this. For a brief moment she looks at the back of her hand, where a red 4 was emblazoned a few days ago]

...Thank you for being... the one to tell me.

[peccatore]

"Is... something troubling you?"

The concern on Agnes's face feels very much like it's Marco's.

[voidofhearts]

Lots of things. All the time. But I... need to help Marco right now.

[peccatore]

After a moment, she nods. "Then, if you wish to move on..."

Once more, everything grows blurry.

Then Marco is at a different desk, in a room that looks more like an office; a small, messy one, the kind that looks repurposed from an otherwise unused room. His hair is longer now, his glasses significantly chunkier, and look it's Luigi. It's Luigi without the moustache. You know him.

He is staring at some kind of metallic board with traces and doodads like it's a precious treasure.

[voidofhearts]

[A breath in and out. Time to move on. Hunger and feeding are an awful and messy fact of their lives... she can figure out her feelings on them later]

[She steps forward towards... Luigi at this moment, she assumes, tilting her head]

...You really love technology. You always look the most alive when you're talking about it.

[peccatore]

"... Alive?" He smiles sheepishly. "That's a funny way to put it."

[voidofhearts]

Maybe not biologically. Maybe not enough to... to escape this feeling. But whatever animates you... it shines brighter.

[peccatore]

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, young miss," he says, winking, "But I appreciate it."

[voidofhearts]

You're... happy, right? Doing this?

[peccatore]

"I am. I was just thinking... I'd like to do this for the rest of my life."

Behind them, Agnes smiles fondly.

[voidofhearts]

I'm... glad you remember this feeling.

[peccatore]

"As am I," Agnes mutters. "Brief as the memory may be..."

Indeed, it's already fading away, giving place to another one.

The transition doesn't take long, this time. They're in Agnes' "establishment" once again; the building is either not the same, or it has been extensively renovated over the years, but there are certainly shelves stocked with blood in here. A few vampires seem to be dining, in fact.

There is also an Agnes that looks almost exactly like your guide, and a Marco who is still very much Luigi.

[voidofhearts]

[Even if she can't taste the blood, can't get subsist on it like these other vampires, something about it... she can't help but lick her lips. The moment she does, the moment sure notices... she turns away from the meal with frantic energy, focusing wholly on Marco and Agnes.]

[peccatore]

That's probably a good call. The memory itself has little to do with the venue.

The Agnes in this memory looks at a gift-wrapped box with the suspicion and skepticism of an adult who has been telling Marco that she doesn't need gifts for nearly a decade.

"Go on, it's yours," Marco tells her.

She relents and opens the box, revealing an absolute brick.

[voidofhearts]

...Oh that's...

...That's really cute.