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

[reddenedgalaxy]

[she shakes her head]

[peccatore]

I-- I need to break character for a bit. Alright, er-- Has anybody in Tributary shown you a smartphone?

[reddenedgalaxy]

...Metawing's shown me some... weird things...

[peccatore]

Okay, okay. Like what?

[reddenedgalaxy]

...Weird things... that she plugs into her body...

[peccatore]

"She-- What?"

[reddenedgalaxy]

She has implants... I don't understand how it all works...

[peccatore]

"Wow. I'll, uh, have to ask her about it at some point. Er, well -"

He taps the circuit board.

"This doesn't plug into anybody's body. It's just part of a machine that can run calculations very quickly."

[reddenedgalaxy]

[she nods. Following along!]

And you use it... for what?

[peccatore]

"Oh, a lot of things. Like math, which... I realise might not sound that impressive. But... Heck, don't you think that's neat? That you can make a machine solve an equation for you in almost no time at all?"

[reddenedgalaxy]

It does... it must be very useful...

[peccatore]

"But not a lot of people have one of these, that's the thing. Mostly because computers have been awfully big and cumbersome for most of their lifetime."

He waggles his eyebrows.

"But. They're getting smaller and smaller."

[reddenedgalaxy]

Really...? It's already small...

[peccatore]

"Oh, see, this is just a part of a computer. You'd need to put a few of these together, and then put them in a box, more or less... But you're right, it is already pretty small compared to what it used to be like." He smiles. "Which is just one the reasons why I really, really want to see how these things keep evolving."

[reddenedgalaxy]

I want to see mor...

[peccatore]

"Well, you're young!" He smiles. "I'm sure you'll get to see plenty. What I hope for is that I can share all of it with people like you."

... But this memory is starting to blur at the edges now, and the spark vanishes from his eye.

"... I do hope I get to show you, Mordimort."

[reddenedgalaxy]

You will... I'm sure...

[peccatore]

Agnes places a hand on Mordi's shoulder as the memory fades. She may or may not get the impression that the gesture comes from Marco, in actuality.

The transition doesn't take very long at all 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.

But, most importantly, there is an Agnes who looks exactly like Mordimort's guide, and there is a Marco who looks exactly like this.

[reddenedgalaxy]

Mustache.

[peccatore]

"Mustache," Agnes whispers grimly.

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.

[reddenedgalaxy]

[Mordimort stares at the thing in the box.]

What... is it?

[peccatore]

"That is a rather early cellular phone," Agnes explains. The other one, just barely visibly stunned, says:

"Marco, this must have been..."

But Marco shakes his head, smiling.

"Business has been going well. And I think this will turn out cheaper in the long run than booking a transatlantic flight every year just to see you."

[reddenedgalaxy]

He really cares...

[peccatore]

Agnes raises an eyebrow directly at you, Mordimort.

[reddenedgalaxy]

[oh no]

Did I... say something wrong? It's good... that he wants to keep in touch... isn't it?