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Little was known about the Architect of the Guild. He was rarely ever seen outside the office in which he spent his days. He never looked anyone who he talked to in the eye, if they managed to even get him to start talking. He even had a racoon that followed him everywhere. To put it frankly, he was very strange. And while yes, everyone at the guild was somewhat weird, there was just something different.
This mystery intrigued one guild member in particular.
Mark was a very friendly person, which made him somewhat of an oddball in the Guild. He got along with everyone just fine, hell, he even managed to hold a few conversions with Lovecraft! But there was one person he never really talked to.
Edgar Allen Poe.
Mark has tried several times to talk to him but the man would always vanish quickly once he was someone was approaching. He asked his fellow members if they knew anything about him. Almost everyone didn't have the slightest clue about him, Steinbeck did mention though that he was an author. That's at least something. He eventually decided to ask his boss, Francis, for any information.
“Excuse me Mr. Fitzgerald?” Mark asked as he walked through the large doors of Fitzgerald’s office. At the back of the room sat Fitzgerald, reading a newspaper.
“Oh, if it isn't Mr Twain!” he said, putting down his paper, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Nothing much sir! I was just wondering if you can tell me a little about one of my colleagues,” Mark replied with his signature smile.
“And who might that be?” questioned Fitzgerald, leaning back in his chair.
“Mr Poe.”
Fitzgerald stared at him for a second, before smiling.
“That’s very interesting. Well, we scouted him because of his ability, Black Cat in the Rouge Morgue. It allows him to transport anyone who reads a book he has written into them. I also heard he used to do detective work as a side job.”
Detective work? Well, Mark guessed it made sense, he did seem like the type.
“Unfortunately that is all I know of him. He is a man of mystery,” Fitzgerald said with a shrug. Mark nodded in understanding.
“Ok thanks boss!” he said as he started to exit the room.
“May I ask a question of my own?” questioned Fitzgerald. “Why is it you want to know more about dear Edgar?” Mark grinned.
“Just want to get along with him better!” Fitzgerald, satisfied with that answer, waved him off and picked up his newspaper.
As soon as Mark closed the door, he heard a voice right behind him.
“Why are you so invested in that guy?” Mark jumped and zipped around.
“Tom! Don't scare me like that!”
“Sorry Mark!” said the floating puppet, wearing a mischievous grin.
“Where's Huck?”
“Huh?” Tom spun around midair for a second, “Eh, no clue. He’ll turn up eventually.” Mark sighed.
“To answer your question, I just want to make friends with him,” Mark said as he started to make his way down the hall, “He seems pretty lonely, so I'm hoping to make him feel more comfortable with everyone in the Guild-” Mark looked back and no longer saw the little floating puppet.
Continuing on, Mark made his way through the building, searching for Poe’s office. He reached the wooden door with the name plate ‘Edgar Allen Poe” next to it. Just as he was about to knock, the door slammed right into his face.
“Huh…? O-oh my goodness I am so sorry!”
Clutching his head, Mark tried to recover from the heavy hit. As his head started to become less fuzzy, he opened his eyes and saw a tall dark figure looming over him.
Huh? Since when was he on the floor?
“M-my apologizes! Oh n-no, should I call someone?” Mark felt a shaky hand on his right arm. “N-nod if you can h-hear me.” Mark nodded slowly, trying to gain a better sense of his surroundings. “That's good, that's good- ASDKSTHADSES!!!”
“Woah what happened here?!”
Was that Tom?
“Woah not looking so good there Mark!”
That voice was definity Huck. Mark saw both small puppets floating above him. Poe’s hand reached down to him, which he grabbed. The hand was very boney, as if he were to squeeze too hard it would break like china. He looked up to meet the man in the eyes, but he was met with long, messy banges. Though the concern on his face was very clear.
“I-Im so sorry! I didn't know you w-were outside! Oh no, I hope I didn't hurt you too badly. Sorry, sorry, you don't need to talk to me again… wait do you need any medical help at all-!”
“Nah, it's ok man!” Mark said putting his hands on his hips, “Nothing I haven't experienced before! Thanks for checking on me though!” Poe’s shoulders instantly relaxed. Now getting a propre look at him up close, he noticed just how tall the anxious man was. He also seemed to wear layers upon layers of clothing. Wasn't he hot, it's the middle of spring?
“Y-your welcome?” he said more as a question, “I-Im really sorry I have to go, I apologize for the inconvenience.” He quickly hurried down the hallway, clutching onto a pile of papers, leaving Mark by himself with his two puppets.
“THAT'S the guy you want to know better?” Tom exclaimed.
“Hey Tom, don't judge him! He seems like a nice guy, he tried to make sure Mark was ok!” Huck retorted. Mark stared down the hall where Poe just went through, thinking quietly.
Suddenly, he had an idea.
It was a stupid idea but what harm would it cause?
————————-
The next day Mark waited until everyone’s normal lunch break to get into Poe's office.
“This seems like a bad idea Mark,” said Huck nervously.
“Yeah, what if you get caught? The boss man would be reeeelly mad,” Tom added. Mark smiled.
“It’s not like he would fire me or anything! I mean, I have a great reputation here!” he grinned. He knew it wasn’t good to snoop around in other people's stuff, but maybe if he learned some more about Poe he would get him to open up!
Poe didn’t come out of his office yet. A few minutes pass by… then a few more… then a hour- Mark decided that it would be ridiculous to wait anymore. Maybe he can sneak in when Poe leaves the office?
Mark made his way to the shooting range to practice his shots. He didn’t have much else to do, having already done most of his work during the first half of the day. During that time, he was just thinking. Despite what others may say, he did think, quite a lot in fact. Hawthorn's birthday was in a couple months, he would probably like a new bible or something since Mitchell kept ruining the ones he had. Hm, Lovecrafts is right after Hawthorns. What should he get him? He’ll ask Steinbeck later, the two of them seem close.
“-ark! Mark! MARK”
He felt the ear mufflers he was wearing be yanked off his head. He snapped his head and saw Tom floating next to his head.
“Hey what was that-!”
“That mystery dude just left his office!” That got Mark's attention. He returned the rifle he was using and rushed to Poe’s office. There he saw Huck floating in front of the office door lock. He lifted his head to look at to see Mark and Tom approaching.
“Finally! I'm almost done picking this lock,” Huck said as he continued what he was doing. After a moment there was a soft click. “Yes!”
“You guys seem oddly into this?” Mark questioned as he started to push open the door.
“Come on, were your partners in crime! Whatever you do, we stand by your side!” Tom exclaimed.
“Haha! But you better get us something later!” Huck quipped. Mark opened the door, and two things stood out to him. One, there was a weird smell that he couldn't quite place his finger on. And two, woah, that's a lot of books. There was but a singular overhead light, that being the only source of light in the room. Why were there no windows?
“Woah, this place gives off all sorts of creepy vibes,” said Tom as he looked up and down the bookshelves. “What was that guy's full name?”
“Edgar Allan Poe, why do you ask?” Mark said as he walked over to where Tom was.
“There's a couple of books here with his name on them.” Looking at where Tom was pointing, there were in fact several books with Poe’s name on it.
“Well the boss did say he was an author,” Mark said as he looked at several of the other books. Few of them were actually modern books, and seemed to be more from the Victorian era from what Mark could tell. “I guess he likes more antique things.”
“Well I mean duh, have you’ve seen the way he dresses?” Huck said in a very matter-of-fact voice, “He doesn't seem to be the most up to date person.”
“He is one strange guy. While I was keeping look out I saw him with a raccoon on his shoulders,” Tom stated. For a moment Tom paused and looked over to the desk that was in the center of the small room. “Hey, there's some pages of writing that look like they've been written in ink.” In the next moment both Mark and Huck were besides Tom looking at some of the writing left out. Mark took one of the pages and began to read it.
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone
Before he could read any farther, Mark put down the paper. He looked over and saw Tom and Huck still reading the papers.
“Wow, this stuff is really depressing,’’ Tom sighed out as he put down the paper he was holding. Huck seemed to be done with his paper but picked up another one that was on the desk. After finishing that one he took the one that was being held in Mark's hand.
“It seems like he likes to write about a bunch of dark stuff,” Huck said as he finally put down the now several papers he was holding. Tom already moved on and was taking a second look at the selves.
“Hey Mark! There’s some cabinets at the bottom of the shelves!” Mark kneels down beside him and takes a look. There were several what looked to be cabinet doors along the bottom of the shelf. It was pretty well blended in, almost suspiciously well. He opened up the cabinet door, eyes widening.
Rows of alcohol bottles were messily lined up, the ones in the back mostly empty. They looked rather cheap, and something about that seemed to not belong with the otherwise more fancy atmosphere of the room. So this is we’re the weird smell was coming from. Now knowing what it was he definitely smelt the scent of booze lingering in the air.
Mark felt a small hand tap his arm.
“Are you ok? I was calling your name but you weren’t responding,” Tom said, Huck next to him.
“Y-yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Can you guys keep watch outside?” Tom raised an eyebrow.
“But why? It’s not like anyone is going to know that we’re-“ Huck stops Tom by putting a hand on his shoulder.
“He’s right, let's go check outside.” Tom squinted his eyes before widening.
“Oh, ok. Call if you need us Mark.” And with that the two disappeared into thin air.
Now Mark was left alone.
In the office of his colleague.
He seemed so polite, always quiet and in his own world. Why would he have stuff like this in his office? It felt so wrong now, more than before, to be snooping through the writers stuff. But there was still the little voice in his head, telling him to look around more. It was almost like trying to piece together a puzzle. One that didn't have all the pieces laid out.
Mark decides to stand up and do a double check around the office. The desk seems like the best place to hide something.
He opened the top draw to the desk, which was filled with stacks of unused paper and ink bottles. Finding nothing much of note, Mark opened the next couple of drawers with a similar assortment of items. There was this gut feeling he had thought that there was something else. He checked through them one more time and as he examined the third drawer, he found it to be a bit smaller than the other ones. He emptied the drawer of what little components it was holding. Running his fingers on the inside of the drawer, he silently pumped his fist, as he gently removed the fake bottom.
That excitement didn’t last as he looked at what was in the real bottom of the drawer. There was a singular bottle. It looked like the type that would be used for medications. Mark took the bottle and examined the label which simply read “Laudanum.”
The bottle seemed to feel ten times heavier in his hand. It was just a medication though, it shouldn’t freak I’m out as much as it did. But it was a very dangerous one at that. Laudanum was nigh impossible to get legally nowadays because of how dangerous it is. The only way to get it would have to be through a perspiration, but the bottle was full. Mark stopped himself before his thoughts would spiral.
In a panic, he stuffed the bottle into his pocket and arranged the drawer back as it was before. He made his way to the door and shut off the overhead light as he exited the room.
“Hey Mark, how are you doing?”
Huck and Tom we’re right outside standing guard like Mark had asked them.
“I’m… fine,” he lied. Tom frowned.
“Clearly you're not, and you know we respect your space but that look on your face tells me that it’s something really important.” Mark simply sighed.
“I’ll tell you at some point. I promise you guys that. I just need some time to chill for sec,” Mark smiled at Tom. “Come on guys, let's go home for the night.”
Mark was currently staying in a small penthouse apartment. He wanted to try and get a bigger house like the one back home but he figured since it was only temporary, he shouldn’t spend a lot of money on it. When they got home Mark fell face first onto the bed and let out a big groan.
“Hey Mark, do you want us to make dinner for you? You didn’t even eat lunch today,” Huck said. Now that he said that, Mark realized just how hungry he was.
“ ‘s okay,” he mumbled with his face in the sheets. Forcing himself to move, he tumbles off the bed, with a hard fall. “Ow…” Ignoring the fact that he just fell, he got to his feet and headed over to the little apartment kitchen.
It took a bit but he cooked some chicken and green beans. After getting his food set up he took out some berries he bought from the market for Tom and Huck. He knew they didn't really need food but the two of them were very fond of the taste of berries.
Eating did certainly help his mood. He felt much better now that he wasn't running on an empty stomach. He stuck the dishes into the sink, promising himself to clean them later. That's when Mark remembered the bottle in his pocket. He reached to feel it just to male sure it was still there.
When Mark first took it, he didn't think what would happen if he did. But now, in hindsight, stealing from a detective is probably one of the dumbest decisions he made in his life. Well there was no turning back from this. He opened the door to the bathroom and stuffed the bottle into one of the cabinets.
When he walked out of the bathroom, he saw Tom and Huck quickly look away. They’ve been unusually quiet since they left the office.
“You guys alright?” The two puppets turned their heads towards him almost in sync.
“Yeah!” Huck said while plopping a berry into his mouth.
“You sure? You guys have been awfully silent,” Mark questioned. After a moment of silence between all three of them, Tom spoke up.
“We’re worried about you, you’ve been acting really strange since we left you alone in that office. Did something happen in there?”
Yes
Something definitely happened
He desperately wanted to tell them but something in his brain was telling him that was like a betrayal. Like he made some sort of agreement when he entered the office. Whatever happened in that office, stayed in that office.
“No, I’m just a bit concerned about the alcohol we found.” Of course he was concerned about that but not telling them the rest felt so wrong. He never kept stuff from them.
“Ok, don’t worry it’s all going to be ok!” Huck said in a cheerful voice. Tom didn’t look as happy but didn’t say anything.
————————-
Several days passed since Mark went into Poe’s office. Strangely, he’s seen Poe only twice since then. The first time was the day after, and the tall man seemed to be in a tizzy of sorts. He was pacing back and forth for over five minutes, just muttering to himself. The second time was at a meeting with the rest of the guild. Mark wasn’t paying much attention, but he noticed how still Poe was. He was almost like a statue, seeming to not be breathing at all. If it wasn’t for the slight rising of his chest, Mark would have definitely thought he was dead, or at least asleep. Other than those two times, the man seemed to disappear, probably in his office.
It was Friday evening, he shouldn’t be thinking about that stuff. Mark was packing up his belongings to go home and just as he was about to head out the door, an idea struck him. He sprinted down the halls and reached the oh so familiar door.
Maybe he can convince Poe to go out to dinner with him or something. No one should have to spend a Friday night alone, that’s just not right! Maybe he just needs a friend to be with!
He knocked one the door.
…
He knocked again.
…
…
Again?
…
…
…
“E-exuse me?”
Mark turned around and saw Alcott in front of him, nervously looking up at him.
“Oh Louisa! How can I help you?”
“W-were you looking for Mr. Poe?” she asked with a slight tremble in her voice. She was also so nervous, it reminded Mark of a scared rabbit.
“Yes actually. Do you know where I might be able to find him?” Alcott adjusted her glasses.
“Y-yes, it’s Friday so he will most l-likely be at The Horse You C-came In On Saloon. It’s a-a bar Mr. Poe usually frequents, mostly o-on Fridays.”
Mark's eyes widened. He already saw that Poe drank a lot more than the average person. But Poe? At a bar? It was an image he couldn’t make in his head. He’s never seen Poe in any social environment, partly because he always declined any offers.
“Thank you very much Louisa!” Mark exclaimed, Alcott flinching at how loud his voice was. She sighed as Mark darted past her. Alcott let out a breath of relief, her shoulders dropping, and just as she was about to head back to her office to pack for the day, she felt the ground shake.
“HEY SORRY I FORGOT SOMETHING,” Mark yelled as he approached Alcott. She immediately seized up again. “Where exactly is the bar?”
“T-thamos Street if I'm not mistaken,” she stuttered.
“Ok! Thank you again Louisa!” he shouted as he dashed back.
————————-
Mark made his way around the city, trying to find the street Alcott told him.
“Hey Mark! What did we miss?”
Both Tom and Huck were now floating alongside him.
“Found out where to find Edgar!”
“Really?” Huck asked, “How did you manage to find him?”
“You remember the small shy girl with the big round glasses?”
“Oh yeah Louisa! She sometimes gives me cookies when she buys them from the bakery downtown!”
“Yeah she told me where he would most likely be.”
Turning the corner, Mark made sure he was on the right street. The sign in the corner read ‘Thamos St.’ Ok good. Down the street he saw a sign with a horse drawn on it.
“This is the place.” As he said that, a wave of dread washed over him. His pulse started to beat slightly faster. Is it anxiety? Why would he be anxious? Poe might not even be here for all he knows.
But as Mark looked through the window, he saw in one of the back corners a man with messy dark hair that covered his eyes.
He stood there for a while, the reality sinking in. Now that feeling of anxiety started to make sense. Mark was excited to talk to Poe but now, seeing him alone at a bar, he wanted to back out. But Mark isn’t the type to give into fear.
“Hey,” he turned to Tom and Huck, “Mind if I talk to Edgar alone? I know I’ve been shooting you guys off lately but this is something that I need to handle without anyone else.”
“It’s ok Mark,” Huck said, “We understand, right Tom?” Tom didn’t say anything for a while, a troubled look on his face.
“Call us if you need us. And you better tell us what happens at least.” After saying that, Tom disappeared. Huck sighed.
“It’s ok Huck!” Mark smiled, “I’ll get you guys a treat after I’m done!” Huck smiled back.
“Ok! Just letting you know I’m in a muffin type of mood, bye now!”
Mark sat down on the sidewalk for a bit, thinking of how to approach his situation. The sun was almost below the horizon, lamps flicking on down the street.
He could do this.
Standing up, Mark walked back over to the bar and opened the door.
The smell of alcohol didn’t hit him as hard as he would have thought. Looking around, it seemed this place was rather calm, for a bar. Mark looked over to where Poe was. Poe’s white suit jacket was hung on the back of his chair, leaving him in his black vest over a white button up. In one hand was a pen and in the other was a glass filled with some type of liquor. On the table was a notepad that was blank. Mark breathed in and walked over to the table with a smile.
“Edgar! Didn’t expect to see you here!”
Poe’s head snapped to look at him so fast Mark was worried if he actually did snap his neck.
“W-what are you d-doing here?” Poe asked with a nervous edge to his voice.
“A friend of mine suggested this place to me! Do you usually go here?” Mark asked as he started to pull up a seat.
“N-not really, just on the special occasion,” Poe replied, starting to fidget with his pen. Mark sat down right across from him, laying his head in his hands, trying his best to act relaxed.
“What’s the occasion this time?” Mark asked. The other just looked down at his notepad. “What’s the occasion?” He repeated. He almost asked again after still getting no response but Poe spoke up.
“Trying to get inspiration for a book.” If the bar had been a bit louder, Mark definitely wouldn’t have heard him.
“A book? I did know you liked to write!” Each lie made him more nervous. Poe was a detective, would he be able to figure out if he's lying? Does he already know? Is he just not saying anything?
“Mmm, yes, I've written several books, including poetry,” Poe murmured. He took a small sip of whatever drink was in his hand. “It was my main job before joining the guild.”
“That's really awesome! One sec, let me get a beer real quick!” Mark knew he was going to need it tonight. Plus, it would hopefully make it seem less obvious he came here with a purpose. He walked over to the bar and ordered. As the bartender hands him his drink, he asks Mark a question.
“Are you a friend of Mr. Poe’s?”
“I would say more of a college…”
“I see,” the bartender said, not looking up at Mark from the glass he was cleaning. After he didn't say anything else, Mark took that as a cue to head back to the table. Poe seemed to stiffen a bit when Mark sat across from him again. The author's glass was already empty. Wow he sure drinks fast.
“O-oh, not really…” Poe said. Wait did Mark say that last part out loud? “I’ll g-get another glass so we can drink together.” He stood up before Mark could say anything, and he almost rushed over to the bartender. This gave Mark just enough time to let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
“I'm sorry about that,” Poe apologized as he sat back down. Mark just responded with a no worries. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, surprisingly Poe is the one to speak.
“Why did you join the guild?” Mark was a bit caught off guard by this question. It was the first time that anyone asked him this question other than when he was first applying.
“Oh well, when I heard that one of the richest men in the world was looking to employ powerful gift users, I just had to take the chance! After all, it seemed like it would be like an adventure, and I wasn't wrong! I really like working with everyone, even if it includes an absurd amount of paperwork.” He heard Poe let out a slight huff of air, almost a laugh. “What's funny?”
“Ah… nothing…” Poe said, covering his mouth with his unoccupied hand.
“Oh come on, you can tell me!”
“Well, I was just thinking you have a very simplistic way of thinking of things. Some might say that is a bad thing but for many it is a blessing.” For just a moment, Mark saw an eye from underneath the messy bangs. They were grey- no, a dull violet. But the most prominent feature was the dark, dark circle underneath it. He must have been staring because Poe tilted his head to the side. “Is there something in my face?”
“O-Oh! No, no, sorry!” Mark apologized as took a sip of his beer. He was a bit taken aback about how much Poe talked, not to mention the normally stuttery author did not stumble on his words once. “So why did you apply for the guild?” Poe seemed to freeze, was he not expecting that question? Mark was about to try and say something but Poe took a swing of his drink.
“I did not apply to the Guild,” Poe stated, staring at his once again empty glass, “Fitzgerald sought me out personally because of my gift.” Huh, well that makes sense. Mark chuckled.
“Well then I guess the question I should be asking is why did you accept?”
“No reason,” Poe replied quickly, and the next moment his face lit up with embarrassment. “I'm terribly sorry I did not mean to be so rude! I do not wish to discuss the topic any further.” Mark pursed his lips, but decided it would be better just to drop the subject.
“Hm, well I'm going to go to the bathroom, be right back.” Mark stood up and headed to where he saw the bathroom sign was. After doing his business, Mark stared in the mirror for a bit to hype himself up. He felt much better, sometimes walking away for a bit really can help. When he came back he saw that Poe’s glass was refilled. He couldn't help the worry that he felt at that moment.
“I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!” Mark said as he sat back down. Poe did not respond, instead just staring at the notepad on the table. Small talk seemed to work before, so maybe…?
“What dreams did you have when you were a kid?”
“H-huh?”
“You know, like how some kids want to be firefighters, some want officers. What did you want?”
“Oh, a poet,” Poe said simply.
“Wow, that's kind of impressive! Not many people are able to achieve their childhood dreams!” Poe shrugged.
“What about you?” he asked.
“Pfft, well, it's a bit silly but I always wanted to be a pilot,” Mark admitted sheepishly.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” reassured Poe with a small smile. “Plus, I can see you as a pilot. Perhaps you can ask the boss to try one of his planes out, if you still want to.”
The two of them talked back and forth for a while. It was actually kind of nice, Poe seemed to loosen up the more they talked. That might have also been because of the amount of refills Poe was drinking. It was impressive how much liquor the author's body could take, way more than Mark would be able to handle without getting blackout drunk. When Poe was about to stand up to get more, Mark gently grande is wrist. Poe flinched at the physical contact.
“Ok, I think that’s enough drinks for tonight,” Mark said.
“Just one more?” Poe pleaded. Mark shook his head.
“You had plenty tonight, plus if I let you you’ll just ask for one more again.” Poe sighed and put his head on the table. Mark tilted his head a bit to see if Poe fell asleep. “Hey, you still with me?” Poe didn’t respond. “Are you ok?”
“No…” His voice was muffled, and he didn't look up but at least he was still conscious.
“Hm? Why is that?”
“I…” Mark heard a quiet sniffle, unsure what to do, he was frozen. Was Poe crying? Did he do this? Maybe because it's the alcohol, after all different people react to it in different ways. “I-I don't know what I want.”
“Hm?” That was not the expected answer. Poe repositioned his head a bit, brushing his bangs out of the way to wipe his eyes.
“I joined the Guild because of one man. In college I was bested by a detective from *hic* Japan. I lost all reason to try and keep any human relationships and dropped out. And that made my adoptive father angry, so when I ran into money problems I didn't have any way out. The only thing that kept me *hic* going was getting revenge on the detective who ruined my life. To write a novel he will never find a way out of, that has been my raison d’être. I was lucky enough to be approached by Fitzgerald, with his money *hic* and resources, I'm able to enact my revenge. But…” Poe paused. Mark said nothing, partly because of shock but mostly to let him speak. “But lately I’ve been losing my motivation. I can't think of what to write, nothing I come up with *hic* will be good enough. What if this is all pointless? Maybe this chase for revenge won't even be worth it. I’ll just fail like I always do, again and again and again-”
Mark placed his hand onto Poe’s arm. His eyes looked up and met Marks.
“Hey, Edgar. I’m right here, it's ok,” he said as he kept a firm hold on Poe, whose body was shaking. “Have you thought about maybe moving on from the whole revenge scheme? You're a talented writer, maybe using that writing for good can help. Not to mention you have the rest of us at the Guild, we can help. I want to help you, I really do. But your current lifestyle is just not ok. If you continue down the path your heading, your eventually going to end up kill yourself.”
Poe’s eyes widened, a weird expression on his face.
“I-Im killing… myself?” He mumbled something that Mark couldn't hear so he leaned in. “Everyone is their own protagonist… who is the antagonist… the killer is the antagonist… but what if the antagonist is the protagonist…?” A smile formed across his face. Some sort of light formed in the dull violet eyes, as if a curtain was lifted. Suddenly, Poe lunged across the table and embraced Mark.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Poe hugged him even tighter. Mark awkwardly hugged back, stunned at Poe’s behavior. The author suddenly pulled back, an uncharacteristic grin on his face. “I need to *hic* start writing right away! I hope you have a good evening Mark!”
Poe tried to rush out of the bar but as soon as he got up from his chair he almost fell down. Luckily Mark was able to catch him before he hit the ground.
“Woah there, I’ll walk you home, how does that sound? And don't worry ‘bout the drinks, I'll pay.” Mark said as he grabbed Poe’s coat from the back of his chair. Poe’s smile softened a bit.
“That sounds good to me.”