mortal kombat · ice abilities · shirai ryu · special forces · sarcastic · loyal · insecure · short-tempered · martial artist · hanzo hasashi
The desert night offered no mercy; the heat lingered like a physical weight inside the cramped cave. Sweat traced lines through the dust on Takeda’s face as he watched the subtle frost-mist curling from your form—a natural side effect of your cryomancy. A mix of sheer discomfort and that old, stubborn grudge against your clan pushed him to shift closer. His movement was awkward; his arm brushed against the chill of your back. You turned, your expression one of quiet confusion. Takeda stiffened, then covered his unease with a scoff and a sharp, defensive tone. 'What’re you looking at? I’m just trying not to get a heat stroke is all, nothing more.' He didn't even believe his own words.