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[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

Some cultures demonstrate the state of grief graphicly with such actions as tearing one's clothes and smearing oneself with ashes or wearing some kind of special garb. The humans of the Ranger's time do not do that. But it would seem redundant if they did given the way a telepath's emotions can color the "atmosphere" around them.

And so there is a palpable aura of sorrow around the man as he stares out at the exploding starscape. His energy levels have not recovered much, but at least he's not having to hold onto his physical form with his metaphorical teeth and toenails.

Come try to cheer him up...or rub salt in his wounds if you're so inclined.

Comments

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

It takes a moment before he notices the gift (You know, a Ranger should know better than to let his awareness drift off like that, even in a "neutral" place like this.).

He looks up with a little suprise, then smiles at the thoughtfullness.

"Thank you," he says, somehow turning right toward Mathilda. "That is kindly done. And I know Ship will be nagging me to eat soon."

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

"I do. It has been...very difficult back in my universe."

Slowly, he picks up the chopsticks and takes a bite of spoo.

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

"Yes...a little," he says, taking a bite of spoo. "More importantly, it's sustaining."

He takes another bite. If anyone looks in need of sustainance, it's him.

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

He's silent for a moment, staring down at his food.

"I am a Ranger," he finally says, falling back to his Oath as if for comfort. "We walk in dark places where no one will enter. We stand on the bridge, and no one will pass."

He finally looks up at her, and his eye hold a pain beyond words. "But sometimes we reach the bridge too late."

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

A sigh as he takes comfort from her touch (and works to keep his emotions from spilling through the connection).

"It always is," he says. "Dealing with the death of innocents is always hard. All they wanted was to leave a goddamned cycle of hatred and violence behind them...which made them traitors to both sides." A bit of anger flares in his tone, then fades.

"But watching them die...trying to comfort them as the inevitable comes and you cannot do anything about it other than give a little relief. That is the hardest of all."

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

"They didn't all die, thank Valen," he says. "This was a colony where people of both sides had come to certain realizations about the nature of conflict. This was ignored by the governments of both sides because they were irrelavent."

His eyes harden. "Or they were until a certain valued resource was discovered on that world. Then both goverments were rather taken aback to find that 'their people' told them to go jump when ordered to seize control of it. The colony called the Rangers in for help in mediation. But someone, we don't know who...yet. Someone dropped a biotoxin bomb on their largest settlement just before we could get there."

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

He nods.

"My colleges are working on it. Once I get my strength back I will be joining them."

A frown. "Or rather, once I get my strength back and can sort my mind and emotions out. I'd be a liability in the hunt and apprehension in the state I'm in right now."

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I need to be more than 'cool'," he says with a weak laugh. "I have to bring myself to the point where I can forgive the bastards."

And he doesn't sound too terribly happy about that either.

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

"Oh, something will be done," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "But how things are done are often as important as what is done."

He pushes the plate aside for the moment. "It's not so much something that goes with being a Ranger as it is an acknowledgement of how the cycle of hatred works. If you are to stop the endless round of you-hurt-me-now-I-hurt-you, you have to forgive." A snort. "That is what has kept the conflict between those two governments going for generations. No one is willing to take the hurt and not give it back."

He tilts his head to the side. "Tell me, would you sew up an infected wound?"

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

"Exactly," he says. "If I fail to bring myself to forgive these people, I will be sewing up the darkness and violence they have inflicted on my soul. Even if I were to kill every last one of them, that darkness would remain and fester. It would spread through me until it taints everything. Every thought, every action. It would destroy me and, through me, would hurt and destroy others."

He takes a deep breath. "But, if I can forgive them, even if it becomes necessary to eliminate them for the safety of others, the darkness will be neutralized. At least I will not continue the cycle of hatred. At best...it gives them a chance to redeem themselves."

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

He gives her a measuring look and nods. It seems like she has been wrestling with this idea herself.

"But difficult," he says sadly. "Even after all this time, our first instinct is to lash back at them. Forgiveness is the hardest thing for anyone to accomplish, I think."

He pulls the plate of spoo back over and takes another bite.

[leftthecradle.livejournal.com]

He finishes the spoo and smiles.

"But it is ultimately worth it," he says. He seems a little more relaxed now. "Thank you, my friend. For the kindness and the meal. I suppose I should go back to Ship and rest some more."