[ his voice cracks on the shout, going hoarse. Reaper's laughter makes him feel humiliated and ashamed just as much as it unsettles him, and his composure is quickly deteriorating. he wasn't prepared for this conversation; he can hardly bear it with Genji, and it's worse to hear his crimes from a stranger.
no amount of projected anger could make it seem as though Hanzo has any intention of violence. his posture is all defensive, shoulders drawn in tight enough to hurt all down his back, hands clenched into fists at his sides and head bowed. he looks terribly cornered, standing there backed up against the balcony railing. ]
Do you think I am proud of it?! [ he slams one hand down on the railing, hard enough that the metal rings, vibrating. ] What I have done can never be redeemed!
[ he should walk away from this. he's not an idiot; there's no way he intends to fight Reaper, knowing nothing about him and his methods. he doesn't even have his bow on-hand, left it sitting on his bed like a fool because he thought a world-renowned terrorist would have no interest in him, certainly not enough to start anything.
at the same time, though, he knows why he isn't leaving. this is what he wanted from Genji. this is the cruel jab at his open, vulnerable wounds that Genji started as a stranger in Hanamura and didn't follow through on when they found each other here. it feels like something he's been waiting for too long, to hear his own self-loathing in someone else's mouth, and it ends up rooting him in place. ]
I know that. [ and yet— ] And yet, Genji is my brother, and until he takes my head himself, that will remain true.
no subject
[ his voice cracks on the shout, going hoarse. Reaper's laughter makes him feel humiliated and ashamed just as much as it unsettles him, and his composure is quickly deteriorating. he wasn't prepared for this conversation; he can hardly bear it with Genji, and it's worse to hear his crimes from a stranger.
no amount of projected anger could make it seem as though Hanzo has any intention of violence. his posture is all defensive, shoulders drawn in tight enough to hurt all down his back, hands clenched into fists at his sides and head bowed. he looks terribly cornered, standing there backed up against the balcony railing. ]
Do you think I am proud of it?! [ he slams one hand down on the railing, hard enough that the metal rings, vibrating. ] What I have done can never be redeemed!
[ he should walk away from this. he's not an idiot; there's no way he intends to fight Reaper, knowing nothing about him and his methods. he doesn't even have his bow on-hand, left it sitting on his bed like a fool because he thought a world-renowned terrorist would have no interest in him, certainly not enough to start anything.
at the same time, though, he knows why he isn't leaving. this is what he wanted from Genji. this is the cruel jab at his open, vulnerable wounds that Genji started as a stranger in Hanamura and didn't follow through on when they found each other here. it feels like something he's been waiting for too long, to hear his own self-loathing in someone else's mouth, and it ends up rooting him in place. ]
I know that. [ and yet— ] And yet, Genji is my brother, and until he takes my head himself, that will remain true.