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]

Marco takes a deep breath. The effort he has to make to focus on Naoki instead is tangible.

"... Did you... need something."

[rescentful]

...I want to know what you need. I think—you're trying to show me something that will make me condemn you, but I don't ... I don't understand yet.

[peccatore]

"See, what I think," the obnoxious guide interjects, tapping Naoki on the shoulder, "is that Marco here is making you take the scenic route because he's afraid to just rip off the bandaid."

[rescentful]

[glancing back]

...well, you're part of him, so you'd know.

[but quickly turning to Marco again]

But I'd rather talk to you directly, if... if you're willing?

[peccatore]

Marco's eye DOES twitch when Naoki says this guy is part of him, but it's gone by the time Naoki looks at him again.

"I... don't know how to..."

"Psh," the guy living rent-free in Marco's head interrupts again, "You think this entire setup would've manifested if he could just talk about it without crying about how much he hates himself?"

[rescentful]

[ignoring him, focused on Marco]

You can show me, then, if you need to. But I'd rather go with you than... I don't know. This guy.

[actually, glancing up at This Guy, for a moment]

What are you supposed to represent, anyway? A memory he can't be free of? The part of his self-loathing that sounds the most mocking? You know what, that's rhetorical. It doesn't matter.

[and back to Marco]

Will you show me?

[peccatore]

That Guy shrugs.

"He wants to fucking kill me. Turns out that's enough to grant me a permanent spot here, go figure."

"... If you want me to just show you..." Marco takes a deep breath. "A-Alright. Alright. I think we can do that."

[rescentful]

Okay.

[Naoki gets up and offers Marco a hand.]

[peccatore]

Marco takes it, though he can't quite seem to look Naoki in the eye. The other guy leans against the wall, seemingly annoyed but silent, at least for now. And everything blurs - somehow, it feels like you're going in the opposite direction now...

You're in the audience for a press conference now, Naoki. There are intrigued whispers all around; nobody seems quite sure why they're here. An announcement, Marco Evangelisti had said. Nothing related to current or upcoming products; what is it for, then? Apparently, he'd been vague.

[rescentful]

...

[This isn't what he expected, if he expected anything. Seems like all he can do for now is wait for the announcement with everyone else...]

[peccatore]

Well, Marco is stepping up to the podium now, with a perfectly diplomatic smile on his lips and something distant in his eyes.

"Thank you." That's how he opens. "Thank you all for coming, on this... very important, very non-standard day. Thank you for the trust you have placed in me. I hope I may continue to rely on your trust in the coming days. I expect them to be... unprecedented. Unprecedented, I think, is the word."

A pause.

"But that is probably enough beating around the bush. You didn't come here to listen to a rich man say nothing of consequence. I'm sure you get enough of that in your job." His smile is a convincing facsimile, from a distance. It may not fool Naoki. "My announcement is as follows:"

The room is utterly silent, awaiting Marco's words.

"From today on, I, Marco Evangelisti, vow to make the public aware of a threat that has menaced mankind since its inception. For centuries, all manners of inhuman creatures with supernatural abilities have lived among us in secret, and they pose a danger to us all."

[rescentful]

Oh.

[It's more of a soft gasp than anything. He murmurs as he lets the breath out.]

... fuel for the fire...

Oh, Marco...

[peccatore]

Marco, still behind the podium, looks down at Naoki with shame.

[rescentful]

[he puts a hand over his mouth like he could take back the words, and just... waits to see if there's more, if the reaction Marco gets from the press is part of this, if he takes questions... just giving it a moment, before he moves.]

[peccatore]

Well...

Many cameras go off. The journalists seem universally hesitant to speak up, but once just one of them does, the dam bursts. It's... lively, to say the least.

Marco keeps glancing back at Naoki, though.

[rescentful]

[he starts working his way through the crowd towards him, a worried look on his face]

[peccatore]

The crowd parts for Naoki. They're not important, really - more like props in a story Marco couldn't bring himself to hell.

Once he's made it there, Marco can't quite seem to look him in the eye anymore.

"... I'm sorry."

[rescentful]

...you are, aren't you?

It's like— those men you killed. Your lovers. When you did it... you felt like you had to. Like it was the least evil choice you could make. Is that... accurate?

[peccatore]

"Something... close. Close to that."

He takes a deep breath. His hands are on the podium, but they're shaking.

"I thought I was being guided."

[rescentful]

Oh.

...by... your parents? By God?

[peccatore]

He nods.

"You... don't have to see it. I, I told you, just the other day, I started hearing them after I had an... an accident. And then... I started hatching this 'plan.'"

[rescentful]

[gnaws on the tip of his thumb, trying to put the pieces together in order]

...but you got outed before you could follow through past the initial stages, because of Mister Shithead Gameshow Host. Which, fuck him, but... does seem to have been— fortunate, in a way.

[peccatore]

"... As much as I hate to give him credit for anything, yes."

[rescentful]

God, Marco...

[shaking his head, and reaching to rest a hand over one of his, on the podium]

I'm so sorry it happened like that, but— I'm glad you did end up getting care out of it, at least.

[peccatore]

Though Marco doesn't relax, he doesn't shoo him away either.

"I-I don't know how many people I hurt with this... this idea. I don't know if I'll ever know."