FAQ with Skewers Sadface McGee [video, open]

[myironeyes]

[Marsh is centered in the camera's view, the wall behind him plain, rough-hewn grey stone. The light flickers a little, as though not produced by an electronic source, glinting dully against his spikes. His voice is quiet and raspy, but the words are clearly enunciated.]

I am Marsh. I am a warden aboard this vessel.

If you have heard stories of Inquisitors from the others from my world - they are true. But they are not true of me anymore.

If you have not, simply know that I do not wish to hurt anyone.

[His mouth twists faintly, and he reaches up to tap one fingernail against the blunt surface of the left spike.]

Yes, they're real. Yes, they hurt. No, there's nothing to be done about it.

[Since that seems to be what everyone wants to know first. The message ends.]



[Spam, Kelsier's room, backdated to wibbly time after the power swap event]

[Marsh sits in a chair beside Kelsier's bed, burning tin and bronze at a steady clip, compounding wakefulness as he does so, hunched over a plain grey shirt, diligently mending the seams.]

Comments

[myironeyes]

[without changing his tone at all]

No, I want to be dead.

A coma would be an insufficent reprieve.

[godsays]

I see why he thinks he has to smile all the time.

[myironeyes]

You should make fewer assumptions.

He has never known me like this.

[Not that he was ever cheerful. But he didn't want to die after Kelsier did.]

[godsays]

I'll stop making assumptions when my assumptions stop being right. If I were so irresponsible, he'd be dead over a hundred times. That means you were always the responsible one and that you're being the responsible one now.

...that last tag should have an 'until' in it, oops

[myironeyes]

Responsible for what? Now I'm just being self-indulgent.

[godsays]

Being responsible by not dropping into a coma.

This is an absurd argument. Why can't you both just be glad you're alive and you have each other?

[myironeyes]

I'm doing absolutely nothing of use. I ought to be at home, helping.

[And he's still kind of angry at Sazed for telling him to get out for a while before he went nuts, even though he's relieved too.]

But I'm here.

[This is both completely ignoring the quesiton and...not.]

[godsays]

So you'd rather be somewhere where Kelsier is dead and you're not.

[myironeyes]

I'd rather he were alive to see the world he made possible. I'd rather be something that didn't horrify him. Where I should be and what I prefer and what is possible all have very little to do with each other.

[godsays]

What horrifies him is guilt. He thinks you're suffering because of something he manipulated you into.

[myironeyes]

[crisply]

I've told him otherwise.

Regrettably, I've never really been able to make him listen when his sense of self-importance is involved.

[godsays]

That doesn't help. It's not his sense of self-importance, it's -

The thing he wanted to tell me about most was how you raised him. It's the idea that you did so much for him and when it came down to it, he failed you.

[myironeyes]

[For a moment, Marsh is plainly, utterly shocked. His gaze switches away from Zane, gazing down at Kelsier instead.]

You idiot.

[Roughly muttered, not angry at all.]

[godsays]

]Zane is somewhat mollified.

He crosses his arms.] Next time, listen to me and then dismiss my assumptions.

[myironeyes]

[Okay.]

You're still wrong about why he smiles.

[godsays]

Because he won't let anyone take smiles away from him.

[myironeyes]

[Softly, a little exasperated, mostly fond.]

When he was a baby, he could burn his finger on a candle and laugh because the blister was a funny shape. It's who he is.

[The defiance, Marsh suspects, comes from the joy, instead of the other way around.]

[godsays]

That's. Ridiculous.

[myironeyes]

Yes it is.

[godsays]

And very... like him.

[myironeyes]

[Marsh doesn't say 'I told you so,' not because Marsh is above saying it, but because Zane is not Kelsier. He just nods.]

[godsays]

He doesn't know what to make of me.

[myironeyes]

[Marsh doesn't know what to make of him either. He tilts his head slightly.]

Why not?

[godsays]

I tried to kill Vin.

[ His eyes flick to Marsh and fall again. ] That was me. It wasn't the voice.

[myironeyes]

[He nods; he knew that, mostly, after their discussion in the chapel.]

Does he really not know what to make of you, or do you not know what to make of his reaction?

[He figures the two are about equally plausible.]