[ APOLOGY ]: the sender, having recently done something that hurt or upset the receiver, reunites with them and addresses the elephant in the room by greeting them with a sincerely apologetic tone.
MKX - MK11, apologizing for yet more of his absence - and this time, with the pervasive rumor of his death... in his defense, it was greatly overstated, he was merely in hidiing. still, his and takeda's presence were undoubtedly missed.
THE MANY MEANINGS OF "HEY.": A PROMPT LIST. || @kcnshi || accepting
[ APOLOGY ]: the sender, having recently done something that hurt or upset the receiver, reunites with them and addresses the elephant in the room by greeting them with a sincerely apologetic tone.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Grief may be the last and final translation of love. The last act of loving someone, before finally letting them leave his psyche and soul. Hanzo Hasashi has come to a realization, a long time ago, that he could never sever this ouroboros; for he will get to do this, translating this last act of defiant love as long as he breaths. The sustainability of love may have been nothing if it wasn't for the all-consuming grief. It has been long subdued from being flames of anguish burning through his heart to a lingering trail of unshed tears; a faint phantom and shadows of the past, present, and future that will continue to haunt him until his last breath. Kenshi Takahashi's absence has been felt every day, as Harumi Hasashi's had in decades, perhaps even more. Hanzo sometimes forgets the merciless stretch of time, for it is vast and endless, its demarcation undefinable.
In this pandemonium, this ongoing battle for the Hourglass, Hanzo still fights his past like an engraving. He would travel back once to lay a wreath on it, commemorating the ones that perished in this unstable, precarious existence of it all. Then he would meet his discarded self, unclean and criminal, rebuking every honor and trust he upheld within the Shirai Ryu. While formidable, he is far away from being the dictator of Fate; to see as the lost ones get even more lost in the threads of weaved time, to stand alone in this barren waste, all rock and bones, as Grandmaster Hasashi continues to challenge and fight certain spell of melancholy and sorrow etching his facade.
The surge of emptiness he feels is like the gust of storm rushing in; the wind of change stops by to collide against his entirety, the window slits cannot hold it anymore than Raiden's army can against Kronika's, the doors cannot hold their hinges anymore, as the pandemonium and its unpredictable consequences only exacerbates and heightens his own desperation. The Takahashis' absence amidst all of this is a mountain lodged in his chest. It's been changing the way he breathes all this time, only allowing wispy inhales and half-hearted sighs. How the resplendence of the Shirai Ryu Compound seem to mock him; as scattering petals become precious blood drops, and in the solace of loneliness, how vehement emotions etch and sculpts chasms upon his facade as they seem to transform into the aftermath of a valiant battle, supposedly with Kenshi as its inevitable victim.
Genuflecting in front of the numerous gravestones of the fallen - both nameless and honored in detail - perhaps it was his willfulness at love which carried his friend's familiar scent and gait. "You should not make an ill-advised habit of simply disappearing from the face of the Earthrealm," tense yet stern with the onslaught of clashing emotions, Grandmaster Hasashi stands erect once again, his indomitable gaze never leaving the sight of the memorial. "In my most horrifying dreams would your presence perish in the most vivid scene. I could not endure the budding pain anew, for the void of waking without those mean so much to my own existence means I too, get to touch the bottom of madness and irreversible death." ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||
