(no subject)
WHO: Himura Kenshin [sessha_rurouni ] Himura Tomoe [willing_sheath ] Alphonse Elric [thesoulbound ]
WHEN: [March 25th, 1952]
WHERE: [Midgard 5]
FILTER: [CLOSED]
WHAT: [Kenshin needs to find out if his long dead wife is not so dead anymore
NOTES: [more mind shattering trauma then you can shake a stick at]
STATUS: [ONGOING]
Part of him wasn't even surprised this was happening. After everything he's witnessed and experienced -walking corpses and those living who claim that they shouldn't be- it was hard to really be surprised by anything anymore. What Kenshin really felt was a fear, frustration, soul eating guilt. He couldn't think properly, but all he knew was that he had to find out for sure if it was... her.
The pain was making it hard to concentrate, and he remembered through flashes of vivid memory the day it happened. He was in pain, like now, could barely see or hear. Existence had no real clarity until he was soaked in blood and crushed by the weight of his own sin. He had caused the rain to bleed, that was all he had been good for.
He walked on his own as much as he was able, accepting Al's help when his balance wavered or a shock of pain threatened to take him down. Ki pulsed through his body and forced his limbs to move, and without the healing he'd received from Marron he wouldn't have been able to sit let alone walk and for that he was grateful.
Kenshin clutched a dagger in one of his splinted hands, shooting pains shooting up the length of his entire arm with just the effort that it took to do that. If anyone asked him why he brought it he'd not be able to give them an answer. He just had to. It was the only link to her that he really had. It had been left to burn with their home when he left, but somehow the Gate gave it back like some sort of mocking joke. This was her dagger, he had no doubts about it. Hers.
Tomoe.
The name wasn't terribly uncommon. This could all be a mistake. He could be working himself into sickness over nothing. Something they could laugh about later, worrying to much over nothing. But what if it wasn't nothing. What if it was her? How is he going to face her? What could he possibly say to someone he'd come to love with everything that he had, whose life was stolen away by your very own hands?
WHEN: [March 25th, 1952]
WHERE: [Midgard 5]
FILTER: [CLOSED]
WHAT: [Kenshin needs to find out if his long dead wife is not so dead anymore
NOTES: [more mind shattering trauma then you can shake a stick at]
STATUS: [ONGOING]
Part of him wasn't even surprised this was happening. After everything he's witnessed and experienced -walking corpses and those living who claim that they shouldn't be- it was hard to really be surprised by anything anymore. What Kenshin really felt was a fear, frustration, soul eating guilt. He couldn't think properly, but all he knew was that he had to find out for sure if it was... her.
The pain was making it hard to concentrate, and he remembered through flashes of vivid memory the day it happened. He was in pain, like now, could barely see or hear. Existence had no real clarity until he was soaked in blood and crushed by the weight of his own sin. He had caused the rain to bleed, that was all he had been good for.
He walked on his own as much as he was able, accepting Al's help when his balance wavered or a shock of pain threatened to take him down. Ki pulsed through his body and forced his limbs to move, and without the healing he'd received from Marron he wouldn't have been able to sit let alone walk and for that he was grateful.
Kenshin clutched a dagger in one of his splinted hands, shooting pains shooting up the length of his entire arm with just the effort that it took to do that. If anyone asked him why he brought it he'd not be able to give them an answer. He just had to. It was the only link to her that he really had. It had been left to burn with their home when he left, but somehow the Gate gave it back like some sort of mocking joke. This was her dagger, he had no doubts about it. Hers.
Tomoe.
The name wasn't terribly uncommon. This could all be a mistake. He could be working himself into sickness over nothing. Something they could laugh about later, worrying to much over nothing. But what if it wasn't nothing. What if it was her? How is he going to face her? What could he possibly say to someone he'd come to love with everything that he had, whose life was stolen away by your very own hands?