Tell me please "all is forgiven"

[nokeystomysoul]

It's been four months since the attack, and since then he's had four months to angst ignore adjust to the giant scar snaking across his chest. He's mostly gotten over it, though he hasn't really gone shirtless since -- and on a tropical island, that's a difficult and often hot and sweaty endeavor. He knows he'll have to brave it sometime, but in

Comments

[babyviper]

O-Ren Ishii is much better these days, finally allowed to take some walks on her own. Whenever the sudden panic bubbles up in her, when she feels the empty space at her hip where her sword should be, the lightness of her thigh where her pistol should be, she takes a long, deep breath. Daijoubou. It's okay.

She recognizes the sobbing first as someone in anguish, and second as a particular sound she's locked away in her mind for a remembrance. A reminder of what she is and can become if she's not careful. Be careful, O-Ren.

She recognizes him, yes. O-Ren knows very well that she hurt innocent people. That makes them her responsibility, whether she likes it or not. So she moves slowly and carefully, making sure to break a few twigs loudly. "Hello," she says. "Hello, are you okay?"

[nokeystomysoul]

The voice is different but familiar. It comes to him in English now, and without the venom and suspicion it'd had before, but that's only so comforting. His head jerks up and he scrambles backward; almost as an afterthought he reaches to grab Aeneas, the puppy giving a noise of surprise as Melchior clutches it to his chest.

"You!" he starts in thickly accented English, tears streaking his cheeks, stalled only for the moment. The fact that she has no visible weapons isn't lost on Melchior but it doesn't really do much to assuage his fear. "What do you want?" he asks in stilted English; of course he'd heard that she had been apprehended and was being rehabilitated, and he struggles to keep himself from begging her to leave him alone.

[babyviper]

She puts her hands in front of her, palms up. There's a certain steely determination in her about doing this. "I heard you crying," she says. "I came to see what was wrong."

O-Ren even moves in a slow circle, so that he can see she's not armed. "Look. I'm not going to hurt you." A myriad of emotions rush over her features. "I could leave, but you need help with something."

[nokeystomysoul]

Melchior should be more suspicious, he should be more scared, he should get up and run away or force her away but he barely has the strength to hold himself up anymore. His tears start again, too forceful to be held back for long, and he sets Aeneas down, burying his free hand back into his hair as he shakes his head.

"It is her gravestone," he starts, gesturing to it in the sand. "It is hers and it is here and I do not understand why. Why here? Why... Why, why... I am sorry, so sorry," he babbles, shoulders shaking now as he slumps into his sobs.

[whoneedsadream]

Slowly, Anatoly was returning to his pre-island craziness routine. He still felt a twinge of fear every time he left Lex alone in the hut, but he was getting past that. Life went out, island shenanigans or not, and he could hardly spend the rest of his time here living in fear of what might happen.

He frowned as he spotted Melchior hunched over something and moved closer to investigate. "Melchior? What's wrong?"

[nokeystomysoul]

Melchior jerks his head up when he hears Anatoly talking, cutting his sob off but only for a moment as he shakes his head and turns away. He slides his legs out from under him and stretches them out in front instead, and he hugs his arms to his stomach, rocking himself slightly. He gestures to the gravestone, wiping at his face with his other sleeve, and he would try to speak but he can't quite get his mouth to work, can't really bring himself to talk without the threat of another wave of tears.

[whoneedsadream]

Anatoly glanced at the tombstone briefly but his focus was on Melchior. This Wendla was clearly someone important to him, he could see that much. But any explanations could wait until Melchior'd been calmed down.

Gently, he slung his arm around the poor boy's shoulder, murmuring as soothingly he could. "It's alright, he murmured. "You don't have to say, it's alright."

[nokeystomysoul]

It occurs to Melchior then that he's really glad Moritz isn't here. It's a horrible thought that he regrets almost immediately, but it's true. Melchior only lets himself lean very slightly into Anatoly, riding out the end of his grief as he pulls his arms in tighter around himself, sniffling. "I am sorry. I -- " He breathes in deeply and wipes at his face, his voice thick with both tears and his accent, making his English difficult for even him to understand.

"This island can be so cruel," he settles on finally, his brow furrowing.

[nokeystomysoul]

How can Melchior explain what happened? How can he do it in English, even, when he can barely string the story together in German in his mind? He shakes his head, tangling his hand in his hair; with the unoccupied hand he points at the gravestone, shaking his head.

"That," he sobs. "That -- it is that." He doesn't know if he can bring himself to explain it anymore than that, especially as his ability to speak is dwarfed by the tears that are sliding down his face and choking his throat.

[nokeystomysoul]

Melchior lets the tears go, but they peter out eventually, and he sniffles, wiping his other arm over his face as he takes a few breaths to steady himself. He still feels fragile and worn and shaken and jittery, like any breeze off the waves could break him, snap him in two, scatter him into pieces until he's lost among the sand. Aeneas whines, crawling over to Melchior and nibbling at his leg.

"The grave," he says hoarsely, staring at it and feeling his eyes welling up again though the urge to sob is thankfully at bay. "The grave belongs to a girl I knew."

[intrinsicworth]

Glen, walking along the water's edge with Kojak, heard the cry, and looked up to see his young friend, full of distress and staring at something in he sand, it's shape somehow more ghoulish in the warm sun. He picked up his own pace, though Kojak outran him easily, coming to a stop by Melchior and sitting in the sand. The dog whined up at him like he wanted to jump up, but stayed put.

Joining them a moment later, Glen spared a glance for the gravestone and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Melchior, tell me," is all he said.

[nokeystomysoul]

Aeneas for his part lurks around, sniffing in Kojak's direction, but doesn't leave Melchior's side at the moment. Melchior looks up when he hears another dog, and when he sees Glen approaching he tries to swallow down his tears for the conversation he knows his coming.

Still wiping at his face once Glen approaches, Melchior opens his mouth to talk and instead takes a small gasp, then tries again. "The gravestone -- I do not know how it got here. It is... It... The girl it belongs to, she -- she died much too young, much too soon." His composure is starting to crack and weaken and a stray tear or two leak from the corner of his eyes. "I saw it last at home, before I came here... I do not know how it is here, or why. It is here -- you do see it?" he asks, darting his eyes up at Glen. He isn't sure which he'd prefer: to be hallucinating or to be seeing Wendla's grave, here.

[intrinsicworth]

Glen's nod confirmed it, as did his answer. "Yes, I see it there quite plainly," he said, brow creased in sympathy. Glen paid no mind to the tears. They were understandable. More than understandable given the circumstances. "It's here the way that all things get here." He wondered if he'd seen the gun Moritz had found and decided that he probably had. The near panic he saw on the boy's face left no room for remembering those things.

[nokeystomysoul]

Melchior shakes his head, anger making a valiant attempt at cracking through his misery but it only goes so far. It'd been Melchior's feelings of righteous anger, his indignation, his determination that had put Wendla underneath this gravestone. "Why does this place force us to suffer?" he asks, anger flashing and dying in his eyes as it's replaced by sorrow. "I had thought -- this would be my second chance to make up for what I have done... for what I did do, to her," he says softly, wiping at his face again.