( OPEN ) it's empty in the valley of your heart

[eruit]

WHO: Hanzo Shimada & open
WHAT: Catch-all for Hanzo related things
WHEN: Throughout the month
WHERE: Kirkwall, various places listed inside
NOTES: N/A other than shirtless Tevene

I. GALLOWS TRAINING

After a disappointing result in the Tourney, Hanzo has decided to dedicate himself to his training in a way he has neglected since he had left Tevinter. It might not be magically focussed anymore - those days are long behind him, even if he can still feel the burn of his power under his skin - but his dedication is much the same, to the point of it being almost ridiculous. He wakes up, he meditates, calms himself, strides out of the Gallows and makes his way to the archery targets, where he spends hours doing what he can to perfect his aim.

Day in, day out, Hanzo spends between three to five hours working on his archery. Most of the time he hits his targets on the mark, the arrow hitting the bullseye and sinking through into arrows that had been there previously, cutting through it.

When the days get warmer, Hanzo shrugs off what remains of his shirt, everything that isn't the left hand side of his body, and lets it hang around his hips. Shirtless, he continues to practice, drawing his arm back and shooting the targets, time and time and time again, before he goes and collects his arrows and repeats the process. It's almost disturbingly mechanical, practiced movements that are akin to routine more than anything else. The few arrows that Hanzo misses - because he hears something, because he's distracted, because something draws his attention - makes him curse quietly in Tevine, his teeth gritting tight.

II. GARDENS

When he's not training, Hanzo spends a great deal of his time sitting in the gardens in the Gallows, legs tucked under him in something that seems like it must be uncomfortable for extended periods of times. He doesn't look particularly put out by it, however, more comfortable like this - with something familiar, something almost like 'home' - than he is in any other way. He sits that way for long hours of the day, basking in the warmth of the sunlight, letting himself enjoy the peace and quiet and the solitude more than anything else, his head tilting this way and that to enjoy the sun.

It is rare that Hanzo Shimada allows himself this kind of peace or comfort, not with the things that he must atone for.

Other hours of the day are spent with him sitting with bits of paper and ink at his side, writing letters that will never be sent. They are all titled with a name, the curl of his lettering formal and practiced, clearly well taught and well educated. He writes and he writes, almost as if he is dictating his life in a diary entry, pieces of parchment building a pile at his side. When he's done, or it seems as though he's done, he puts the paper to one side and bows his head, overcome by something, his hands shaking a little before he begins to fold them all, meticulous and careful. When he is done folding them he turns, creating a small circle of rocks before he starts a small fire.

Then, one by one, he burns all the parchments until nothing remains.

The fire burns out as Hanzo sits, watching it.

III. GALLOWS ROOM

When he's not out training or in the gardens, Hanzo spends a great deal of time in his room reading any scouting reports he can get his hands on and doing his own studies and investigations. He's still investigating his own things, thanks to the confusing mess that Benedict had him dragged into, but he does what he can to keep himself quietly involved in whatever he can stick his nose in. It means that he's often surrounded by papers, making notes and adding to his own maps of Kirkwall and the areas beyond the city, as much as he can.

His door is open, if only because it's so warm, and when he settles in his chair there is a bottle of something that smells very, very alcoholic set at his desk as he works.

It takes him a little while to lift his head and respond to anyone calling for him, but he always does, in the end.

IV. OPEN / WILDCARD

( Feel free to wildcard your own prompt or message me at aziraphale for a prompt of your own! )

Comments

[eruit]

It's not often that Hanzo can use his own weight as a kind of benefit for him in this kind of fight; he is strong, true, with most of his muscles developed in his arms due to carrying a staff and then a bow, but most warriors are faster or stronger than he is. He slinks, he's sly, he shoots from afar, a sniper more than anything else, relying on what he can do from a distance rather than up close, so being able to use his weight here is a benefit.

He doesn't expect the pressure to his groin, the shift of her body as she jerks up and hits him right where he is most vulnerable. It gives her the opening she needs, allows her space to move him, pushing him onto his back and taking over his position with ease as he winces from the ache and the soreness. It's not a weakness he can take advantage of on her, and he feels himself leaning back, cringing from the hurt, from the sting, from - all of it, really.

Eyes closing, Hanzo feels the sting of a loss as he does the knee between his thighs. He knows that she has bested him, but he's loathe to admit it, not wanting to let himself admit to giving up, to giving in, even in a practice fight.

Eventually, he laughs. Barely.

"Only sometimes, yes."

[strangel]

Gently, she tugs his beard at his chin. "You did well. Not all archers can cope in melee."

Helena pushes herself up, and as she stands, offers her hand to haul him up - on the side that isn't possibly sprained, even. There's dust in her hair, stuck to her body, and her brow is beaded with sweat, but she's smiling easily. More relaxed, less wild and dangerous.

"Next time you beat me. Come. We have candies now, and rest."

[eruit]

"Not all archers are trained." He almost smiles at the tug on his beard but resists the urge. She has had his laughter; she will not have his smiles and tenderness, not yet.

Slowly, Hanzo reaches and takes her hand, allowing himself to be pulled up. He's sore in his wrist, between his legs, in places she had hit and twisted, where she had struck him and where his body had hit the ground, but it's a good ache. It means a fight fought well, even if he hadn't come out the victor. If it had been a game of shooting... Well.

That would be another matter entirely.

"... What are 'candies'?"

[strangel]

"Candies are sugar food. Sometimes they are bright colours."

Once he's up, she moves towards the pile of crates she had been lurking on before. In the earlier hours of the day they were more fully cast in shadow, but as the sun had risen and bathed them in light, she'd sprawled out to watch the training and enjoy the sun like a cat, her candies carefully tucked into the shade.

Now she hauls herself up to sit on one of them, and retrieves the upside down bear-head hat that holds a number of treasures. Picking up another of the plastic wrappers from earlier, she holds out her hand expectantly for his, and rattles the candy inside the packet.

"These are sweet and cheering."

[eruit]

"I see."

So by candies she means things that are intensely sugary and probably not very good for you. Hanzo doesn't indulge much - other than alcohol, but that's less an indulgence and more of a coping slash punishment mechanism - but he supposes getting beaten in a spar is enough reason to allow himself something sweet. It's not something he does often and once won't hurt him, not with the rate he's been training at lately.

Slowly, he moves over and sits down on one of the crates beside her, leaning on his good wrist. Her kindness, at least, is appreciated, and he reaches out just as she expects (or demands?) that he do.

"Is this an apology for the kick?" His groin still hurts, thanks.

[strangel]

"No," she says, and smiles very brightly. "I do not apologise for any kickings. I do not expect you to apologise for our fighting, either."

Her right hand cups the underneath of his own, and carefully tips brightly coloured, sugar coated chocolate and peanut butter candies into the palm of Hanzo's hand.

"You see? Little sunshine pieces. Lots of light, and they make your body feel warm and happy."

Sugar, sweet things, all kinds of food have truthfully made her feel better. Food is sanctuary and comfort, was worth all manner of struggles and punishments. Food was a reliable comfort, where people were not. She offers Hanzo a slight smile. "We fight, and we celebrate being strong, and feed ourselves to get stronger."

[eruit]

All she gets in return for that is a vaguely gruff laugh, mostly because Hanzo is still in rather a lot of pain. It was a fair fight, there's no denying that, but the ache is still present and he can't quite shrug it off.

He doesn't pull his hand away, however, letting her drop the candies into his hand. They're bright and odd, something he might have seen in the midst of celebrations in Minrathous, and he's not sure what to make of them. Unique, certainly, but not something he would usually be willing to put in his mouth.

"Sunshine pieces." His eyebrows raise, just a little, and he watches Helena for a long, drawn out moment. His fingers from his other hand reach out to touch them, rolling them over his palm, and he ponders for a moment. Does he really want to try one of these from a woman who had just beaten him in a fight?

That, strangely, makes him more inclined. Carefully, watching her as she speaks, he puts one in his mouth.