Musebox

When Michel first realized that releasing a soul would be a long process, he had been concerned. Morgana had made her decision to finally end these long years of torturing those who wronged her, but it was simply not that easy. The decision may have been made, her soul had begun to heal, but the imprint of that hatred had remained.

This in itself was not particularly troublesome. What had worried him was that it might end up forcing Giselle to remain in that darkness for longer. Fortunately that fear had been allayed and she had soon returned--still trapped, but with him and all the other souls who had found themselves.

It was unfortunate that they would have to wait longer but what was a couple months after several hundred years? With everyone on the path to a better life, Michel did not feel inclined to complain. He could spend more time with Giselle. He could find reconciliation with his brothers. Was it odd to say, that despite being stuck in such a miserable place, he was happy?

More so when Mell was finally released, solidifying that they would indeed walk free.

Today--or, well, what felt like a separate day found Michel a bit restless. He was not quite accustomed to inability to sleep that all their souls harbored, having spent so much of his existence in a dark abyss, senses fogged and mind near broken. Giselle, Nellie, Pauline and Maria were having their 'girl talk' which left him to his own devices.

His meandering first led him to the garden where he first met Mell, face to face. Admittedly he had been quite irritated by the boy when they first met, but that irritation had never been born out of dislike. More frustration at seeing someone who could be better, decidedly not doing better. Out of reflex Michel had nearly gone to the cellar next before quickly changing direction. While he doubted that Yukimasa was keeping himself locked up in there, he'd rather not risk it. The swordsman no longer frightened him but he still insisted on keeping that 'angel' ideal going on which was more than a little uncomfortable.

At last his legs brought him to the room with the now familiar billiards table, where he paused at the threshold. There was Jacopo. The man, who in the pursuit of power and control had lost what he truly valued, his friendship and his love. While he had done horrible things, Michel still couldn't help but sympathize with him, and so after only a small pause he entered the room.

"Jacopo?" he gave a quick glance at the billiard table--that thing still confounded him, "How....are you doing?" he asked awkwardly.

Well.

Conversation was still not his strong point, but the sentiment was genuine.