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]

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.

[peccatore]

"Cute...?" Guide Agnes wonders quietly.

Meanwhile, the other one - visibly stunned, if only barely - 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."

[voidofhearts]

This way he can talk to you whenever...

[tilts her head]

... Why is it so big?

[peccatore]

"It was a rather early model. Have you never seen an older cellular phone?"

[voidofhearts]

[shakes her head]

[peccatore]

"It could only make calls. I'm sure it sounds positively archaic to you."

Is Agnes smiling...?

[voidofhearts]

Only calls? Whoa. I mean, I do suppose every technology has to start somewhere...

[peccatore]

"... Well, it could also receive them, I suppose."

[voidofhearts]

I'd hope so...! One-way calls with no way to recieve them sound pretty dire, hehehe.

[peccatore]

"Is that not what radio is...?"

Ah. It looks like this memory is fading already, too. When Agnes notices, she casts her gaze to the floor, an oddly resigned expression on her face.

[voidofhearts]

[Already? She looks over to Agnes, a little worried]

Is everything alright...?

[peccatore]

"We are... reaching the end, Miss Void."

And everything blurs for the last time in this door.

When the world clears up, you and Agnes are in what appears to be the entrance hall of an opulent, but disheveled mansion. A half-dozen people aside from Marco are here, picking themselves up; a lanky man with dark green hair lies motionless on the floor.

Marco is in a strange position, half-kneeling, half-slumped forward. Another Agnes is there too, her small hands cradling his face.

[voidofhearts]

[She looks at the man on the ground]

...K-Kaphlar? The awful boyfriend guy???

[She looks around at all the new figures. This is entire scene looks... bizarre. Not on its own, but there's a strange sense of a lot of missing context]

[peccatore]

That's him, alright. He appears to be fully unconscious, breathing shallowly. Effy is here too, talking to an orange-haired girl.

Meanwhile, the Agnes of this memory speaks to Marco.

"Marco," she says. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Marco tells her. He doesn't seem all... there.

The two of them are silent for what feels like a long time, until she says with a gentleness that very few have seen:

"... It's okay. You will be okay. I'm here, Marco."

Marco's face is trembling. You get the impression that something like a sob is struggling to break free from his chest.

"I thought... A-Agnes. Agnes, I thought I couldn't talk to you. I thought you would... I thought... thought, they said... God said..."

She throws her arms around Marco and squeezes him tightly. That sob expels itself, and Marco is shaking, and somehow, he seems lighter.

[voidofhearts]

[okay well time to completely ignore Kaph. She turns her attention to the unfolding scene]

His god told him you... couldn't talk? That's so specific...

[peccatore]

"... The other way around, Miss Void. 'God' forbid him from talking to me."

It seems like the scene isn't moving forward, actually. You have time to explore if you wish.

[voidofhearts]

[She will in a sec, but first things first she turns back to Agnes.]

Forbid him??? Why would his god do that?