#﹙⠀ kathexismania⠀»⠀ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ：HANZO ！ ﹚

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from  this  𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄  »  @𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒂​​​​  𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 ：

❝ My emotions have three outlets: haughty silence, tears and rage. ❞ (from 🔥 to ❄️)

A  consider  amount  of  willpower  is  required  to  overcome  the  desire  to  laugh,  although  an  irreprehensible  chuckle  still  seems  to  dare  bubble  up  his  throat,  producing  an  rather  peculiar  noise.  Maybe  that  wasn't  the  most  deserving  or  appropriate  context  for  a  laugh,  yet  that  raw  honesty,  intonation  and  the  precise  timing  somehow  still  managed  to  squeeze  out  some  humor  from  that  solid  mountain  of  a  man,  even  though  there  weren't  exactly  as  many  reasons  to  share  many  genuine  and  carefree  laughs  as  of  late.  Especially  considering  the  circumstances  entangling  both  individuals  in  question:  After  all,  after  such  a  long  time  of  peaceful  coexistence,  every  detail,  every  nuance  that  made  each  other  unique  was  no  longer  uncovered  and  certainly  no  factual  surprise  should  come  from  those  words  ━━━━━━━━━━━━  no  matter  how  somber  they  might  sound.

❛❛ Oh, ❜❜      Still,  there's  room  for  the  playacting  of  a  theatrical  surprise,  as  evidenced  in  the  slightly  widened  cerulean  gaze  though  no  other  change  is  noticeable  in  his  serious  expression.  One  heavy  hand  leisurely  and  softly  placed  over  his  broad  chest  just  to  enhance  the  act  while  the  soft  words  make  no  secret  of  his  playful  sarcasm.      ❛❛ In  all  my  years,  in  this  vital  industry,  this  is  the  first  time  I  have  come  to  notice  it. ❜❜      Brow  rises  at  the  end  of  the  sentence  only  to  emphasize  his  punchline  deliver,  tone  spiced  with  a  bit  of  self-satisfaction,  and  the  face...  Ah,  his  face,  it  remains  inflexible  as  a  rock,  still  carrying  this  hint  of  disdain  which  only  wouldn’t  help  to  take  any  of  those  words  seriously.    ❛❛ Should  I  dare  offer  Master  Hasashi  an  alternative?  Or  does  he  believe  it  to  be  good  as  it  is? ❜❜    Don’t  go wasting  your  emotions...

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☣   𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚  on⠀»⠀@𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒂 :

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Remember the moment you left him alone and broke every promise you have ever made? For our violence was an ocean, lost in the open and nothing could take our respective pain away? Maybe they spoiled what could have become beautiful moments and experiences by trying to recreate them with the ones Hanzo Hasashi has lived them with. Maybe it’s better to just let that memory continue living without ever tainting it trying to make it more. How he had felt the whole world cave and vacuum beneath a dark sanguine void, as unfurling cosmic petals of his heart withered and pulverized with the corruption of Kamidogu taking ahold of one of his most formidable and talented pupils, Forrest Fox. The world as of current brings him equal amount of thirst and despair, burning him vehemently until he is naught, but dust.

With his self-destructive thoughts of gnawing, all-consuming guilt and remorse killing his body, mind, and soul softly in the dark of the night, the Shirai Ryu Grandmaster finds himself seemingly eternally lost; lone, left cold, shivering, faltering, losing, dusting, parting... Hanzo Hasashi thinks it’s his heart. He thinks it’s tired of pumping blood for a creature that keeps wanting to die, for he once again, failed to protect those that required his protection. His trudging steps are heavy, as the steep, unforgivable incline towards Lin Kuei Temple isn’t an easy feat to conquer, even for the pyromancer with infernal flames scorching in the depth of his heart and soul.

Breaking and eroding himself down is a necessary tribulation Hanzo Hasashi had chosen, and therefore, he considers this pivotal action building of his stronger foundation. He would unabashedly allow himself to dream wild, even in their throes of driving one another on the verge of fatal, grisly death, he would let himself start with a feeling. For he still remembers what it feels to be like a child; innocent, full of curiosity and awe, a sense of playfulness and adventure. Having plunged into the nadir of Netherrealm and being tortured beneath the surging conflagrations of inferno had prevented his heart and soul to hearken back to the happiness of purely being. And yet, through their visceral violence stemmed from bitter rivalry of the past now unearths a feeling he couldn’t fathom to decipher. Perhaps it was reverence and love hidden inside the crevices of his mind and chambers of his heart, the delightful treasure waiting to be found by the other Grandmaster. So he would simply follow his heartbeats, align with that inner infinitesimal surge of hope, invite in all that infinite potential, as his tenacity breaks through the raw, brutal, frigid howling of Arctika’s winter wrath.

“I beseech to speak with Sub-Zero,” beneath the rosy tinge of his dark olive skin, he requests rather humbly to one of the guards keeping watch. “I do not wish to fight the Lin Kuei; all I want is our allegiance, so that we may pave forth a better, halcyon world without malignant corruption of annihilating darkness, for our respective clans have suffered enough.” No longer, he wishes to be inhabited by his fatuity deep within his soul, a chapter of never-ending idiocy who never had joy in himself. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||

The  dense  and  noisy  breathing  is  the  only  melody  that  lulls  the  mind  of  the  now  grand  master  of  the  Lin  Kuei  ninjas.  Countless  intangible  images,  memories  and  fantasies  flash  on  his  head,  causing  inside  of  him,  in  these  countless  hours  when  he  meditated  right  at  the  shadow  of  the  great  statue  in  the  temple,  an  intense  pain  that  seems  to  overwhelm  his  entire  self;  oppressing  him,  grinding  him,  diminishing  him  to  the  vile,  empty  and  purposeless  creature  that  his  circumstances  might  have  made  him  out  to  be.  Transformed,  violated,  prevented  from  finding  rest  -  in  life  or  death  -  for  so  many  years  not  only  by  his  enemies  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  but  also  by  those  whom  he  had  once  sworn  to  remain  loyal  and  filial  to.  Still,  some  sense  of  gratitude  still  lingered  in  his  countless  thoughts,  especially  after  being  saved  even  on  the  verge  of  embracing  his  ultimate  demise  by  Bo’  Rai  Cho  and  finally  having  a  chance  to  cleanse  his  clan  of  all  that  mechanical  madness  and  re-raise  it  despite  all  odds.  Throat  starts  to  burn  as  the  mouth  helps  to  take  deeper  breaths  while  the  thoughts  seem  to  show  more  than  he  would  like  to  see  in  that  moment  of  supposed  peace.  The  gleam  of  those  pale  blue  eyes,  once  wild  and  indomitable,  seems  to  have  been  clouded  by  the  cruelty  of  the  current  circumstances,  although  it  maintained  some  resilience  to  guide  his  reborn  sect.

A  wave  of  restlessness  strikes  him,  carried  by  those  strong  words  that  floated  in  the  piercing  winds  of  Articka’s  to  his  ears,  while  he  finds  himself  caught  in  this  frail  sense  of  doubt,  wrapped  by  the  darkness,  not  only  from  the  surrounding  environment,  but  also  from  his  own  feelings  and  thoughts.  He  recognized  that  voice,  from  the  darkest  depths  of  his  memory.  There’s  no  hesitation  before  going  down  to  the  gates  of  the  fortress,  navigating  the  corridors  with  all  the  speed  his  feet  allowed  while  his  body  seemed  to  be  flooded  by  the  most  varied  mix  of  sensations.  Would  it  really  be  prudent  to  receive  him  now?  Even  after  so  muchbloodshed?  Could  they  ever  reach  peace  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  or  at  the  very  least  a  momentary  truce?

The  seconds  that  follow  seem  to  have  stretched  in  the  air  much  longer  than  they  actually  lasted,  while  the  distance  to  the  gates  grew  shorter  and  shorter.  It  wasn’t  necessary  to  be  the  most  intelligible  of  men  to  perceive  in  the  those  fierce  features  that  the  stated  intentions  were  genuine,  yet,  perhaps  there’s  still  this  attempt  to  extract  from  that  expression,  even  at  such  distance,  some  clue,  the  subtlest  of  hints  in  what  isn’t  said.  Still,  the  most  dignified  semblance  is  offered  to  his  guest,  the  semblance  of  an  actual  leader.  Heavy,  callused  hands  slightly  outstretched  so  as  to  show  that  no  threat  would  be  allowed  while  the  Grandmaster  silently  but  firmly  gives  the  order  for  the  guards  to  lower  their  weapons.  And  every  passing  second  that  silence  lingered  only  gave  voice  to  his  own  thoughts,  only  echoing  and  amplifying  his  doubts.  However,  even  in  that  position,  even  after  the  humiliation,  even  amid  the  unspeakable  pain  that  running  throughout  his  being  at  the  mere  thought  of  their  previous  encounters,  tearing  him  apart,  little  by  little,  until  there  is  nothing  left,  Cryomancer  still  seems  unable  to  bear  any  such  strong  hatred  towards  that  man  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  And  perhaps  condemns  himself  in  infinite  ways  for  that.

❛❛ Very  well, ❜❜    paused  are  the  words,  there  is  no  reason  to  incite  conflict  right  now.    ❛❛ We  do  seem  to  share  the  same  thoughts. ❜❜    Pressure  increases  inside  the  jaw  while  the  icy,  pale  blue  irises  are  framed  by  thick,  slightly  furrowed  eyebrows,  indicate  some  suspicion  that  would  still  take  roots  inside  his  heart,  in  spite  of  a  sparkle  of  relief  lighting  inside.  And  perhaps  it  could  ignite  a  flame  too  dangerous  to  nourish  even  after  so  many  years:  hope.  He  does  his  best  to  not  transpire  more  than  he  should,  while  the  deep  voice  seems  to  be  reverberate  along  with  the  winds  of  the  North.    ❛❛ This  humble  one  is  eager  to  clarify  any  doubts  and  concerns  the  Grand  Master  of  the  Shiray  Ryu  may  still  hold  regarding  our  character. ❜❜    Left  clenched  fist  hurries  to  find  the  right  palm,  and,  together  with  a  so  very  subtle  bow,  invites  the  pyromancer  to  accompany  the  leader  into  the  fortress.  At  that  point  perhaps  there  might  be  a  veiled  meaning  in  the  frigid  speeche,  however,  it  wouldn’t  be  wise  to  expose  it  here  and  now  in  the  face  of  people  who  were  not  involved  in  their  and  their  only  affairs  in  the  least.