#UNSHACKLE ME FROM THIS BURDEN OF MY OWN CREATION

[whiskeyswifty]

it's so fucked up how not having a deadline is the best (i can work at a liesurely pace and enjoy the act of creative expression!) and worst (i will nitpick this for eternity and never be happy with it) part of creative side projects like i will never know peace.

[sasorikigai]

How do you feel about this truce with the Lin Kuei even after so many years of clinging to your grudge? Was it easy to let go?

Ask my character "How do you feel about ______?" Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they'll have to answer honestly. || @indulgentia || accepting

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Hanzo Hasashi has lost and loved and won and cried himself to the wretched thing he used to be as Scorpion; there were thirst and hunger, beneath the torrential grief and the ruins of the past persisting. He used to be such a vile, broken thing, for tragedy crawled its way in and called him home. Grief may still weigh heavily in his soul, but it no longer propagates his wrath and vengeance, and embeds anger in his bones; Hanzo Hasashi wields hope as he stands upon the unsubstantial altar of ever-unwavering attachment of humanity, as his proverbial agony and despair have been serving his sanguine morphine dream that would stand between vision’s clear and open eyes, until his consciousness forever shuts down. 

Such unforgettable memory remains the tragic memorial to unfulfillment; perhaps Kuai Liang exemplifies the embodiment of what Scorpion failed to do. The Lin Kuei warrior clad in sapphire blue, the melancholic desperation of cruel death under cold’s chilling embrace. Had not he plunged into an empty grave, slowly filling with the slit of despair, when all the while unsuspecting Shirai Ryu residents’ precious blood overflew in cesspool stench of irreversible death. Hope as the sole survivor was thin air, and with his death, Scorpion’s need to be erected to purge the world of injustice and retaliate in order to survive the life unlived, unable to be lived soared, as the Netherrealm’s wraith sought to crave in inborn unremittingness for destruction. 

And yet - it was Kuai Liang who has given Hanzo Hasashi hope and the prospect of reciprocal love, loyalty, and devotion which has served as the only survival mechanism that is purely human. No longer, he is the hollowed, scooped self, the damned who have nothing left. Perhaps it had been hope’s particular shade of nothingness which can still shapeshift him into some placebic deliverance, as his unending, magnanimous embers burn with such prospect of life kept and preserved.  

“The past solely manifests itself as a long way to nowhere. Before the realization of what was real burst open, such terror dwelling in the deepest reserve of my heart and soul overwhelmed me to the verge of sheer enmity. Before the white clouds of pain exacerbated such torrential chaos stirring within me, it was my own shame, being unshackled by the restraints of my obstinance and foolishness which burdened me to no end, until just recently.” The Grandmaster’s austere, solemn tone holds the power of gravity, for the bad blood of their yesterdays no longer rot in the hollow of his skull. For Kuai Liang had bestowed upon him a hope, that not only continues to inspire him towards creation, betterment, and healing, but keeps him from that loneliest occupation of self-loathing. 

In this indescribable dualism of emotions, Grandmaster Hasashi has found halcyon peace within him, amidst the tangled groves of evergreens releasing their juniper sighs into the morning in Lin Kuei grounds, or bursting flora and verdant embers of the Shirai Ryu Fire Gardens. “Through our ongoing journal of understanding and love, I have learned not to poison both of our lives anymore with tragedy. Our blood is exhausted, and our capacity for suffering is also exhausted. Our truce yields no deception, nor should wane amidst the teeming threats which will continue to usurp us of tranquil peace.”  ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||