Post by Gjenrei on Aug 17, 2013 11:07:49 GMT
""His name is..."
And thus, the story was told...
--------------------------------------------------
(The following takes place in Japan, so everybody is speaking in Japanese with the courtesy of subtitles.)
"How does it look?"
{The man on the table was covered in blood, his arms and chest were cut multiple times of varying depths. He was breathing, but shallow and appeared to not be concious. A man stood over him, checking his eyes with a pen light. The speaker was another man in an off the rack suit, looking anxious. The first man, clearly a doctor of some kind, shook his head.}
"Bad. He's lost enough blood that if I don't have an emergency team here within the next few minutes for a transfusion, he may not make it. Fortunately, they had the foresight to already be heading this way."
{The man in the suit exhaled a tired sigh. Such things were becoming habitual.}
"Will they make it in time?"
"I'd say there's a sixty percent chance, if that."
"Save him, Kitomi."
"I'll do everything I can, Nakamura-san."
{The man in the suit turned away with one last tired look. Each step toward the door caused his worried lines around his mouth to crease as the frown took center stage. His brow furrowed in anger with each movement, and by the time he reached the door he was downright fuming. He stepped out of the room, almost knocking over two other men, clearly wrestlers, who stood aside and bowed with respect. The man reached into his jacket pocket for his phone and called number one on his contact list. The call was answered immediately.}
"Where is he?"
"I do not know, Nakamura-san. He was not in the locker room, nor in the green room. I have a man searching the parking lot as well as concessions."
"This has gone on too long. I do not care how much it costs or what legal methods we must employ. For the safety of those who step into the ring, we must get rid of him."
"We will, Nakamura-san. This, I promise."
{The man in the suit reached another door, this one with kanji imprinted on it that stood for "boss". He stepped through the door, and was suddenly face to face with a grinning porcelin colored mask. The mask might have held a racious wide smile, but the eyes that stared directly into his soul held no warmth at all. The lone black kanji symbol for "death" seemed as ever an omen up close as it had decoration at a distance.}
"Nakamura-san? Are you still there?"
{The voice on the phone jolted the man in the suit out of his trance.}
"Nevermind, Koto-sama, I found him."
{The voice on the phone talked in hushed and panicked tones, but the man in the suit wasn't listening. Instead he snapped his phone closed. He took a step back, then to the left, increasing the distance between himself and the grinning death mask. The mask did not follow in person, but his eyes never left their piercing gaze.}
"I heard you were searching for me."
------------------------------
"Wrestling, is a funny business. People of different backgrounds, social classes, temperments, ideals, religions, all coming together for one reason.
Because they love what they do.
Whether they love what they do for their own self worth, their own goals of glory and fame, or just the sheer love of doing it night after night, there is always some measure of love. This job is not easy, and by virtue of that, nobody would choose to do it if they did not love it as a student chooses to flip burgers because he has no other choice. The effort it takes to ready oneself for a simple match is staggering when compared to any other job.
Nobody chooses this life because it is easy. Those who try, find themselves on the short ticket to retirement.
A man once told me that you do not choose this life, it chooses you.
The six men in this match have varying backgrounds. Orphans, outcasts, outlaws, the dregs of society have all been our labels during our lives. But we all share the love of that ring, no matter which way we choose to show it. Who we are and what we have done shaped the men standing there now, but the journey is only a part of why we're here.
Because the next step is always more thrilling, the next rush a little more potent than the last. We, as a whole, truly do live for this, it's not simply a tired expression.
This is life. This is how we live. In the ring, we are whole. Between those ropes, we are annointed. When that bell rings, we ascend to heights greater than the angels. It no longer matters who we were a moment before..
Whether you believe a kick to the junk or a loaded elbow pad is righteous or not.
Whether you believe in stories about redemption or whether people can change or not.
Honor is a funny concept. It's not a right path or right decisions like most people feel. It's knowing what your heart tells you is right, and having the conviction to do it even when the entire world is telling you that you're wrong. If you can look at yourself in the mirror after doing what you do and believe that you did the right thing, then you still hold onto your honor.
The reason why people who do evil things don't have it, is because they cannot. If Alex Jones could honestly live with all the "wrongs" he's committed, then he would not need redemption.
I hold my honor in the highest regard, because it's the only thing that matters to a man's soul.
Question it, all you like.
But you'll never break it."
----------------------------------
{It took a moment, but the man in the suit recovered enough to find his voice. He also found that when it came out of his mouth, it was in measured fury. Not uncalled for, but it did not match the unease and quivering in his gut when he looked at the mask.}
"What were you thinking?! Kei might not last the night because of all the torment you put him through! Why do you do these things!?"
{The mask didn't even flinch at the barbs hurled at it. It was merely a shrug.}
"If I did not, do you think he would not have? His hatred for me was never a hidden virtue. Should I simply allow others to decide my fate without reciprocation?"
"He hates you because of what you did to Fudo, and Kozo, and Keitaro! All those men stood in that ring for the love of the sport and you treated them like lifeless toys for your enjoyment! What have they done to deserve such barbarism?!"
"I expected them to be better."
{The man in the suit blinked, as if his brain heard the words, but they refused to register any importance. He shook off the shock and placed both hands on his temples, like he could will the situation away as though it were a minor headache.}
"I don't want to listen to such nonsense! Keitaro was in a coma for three days after the debacle you called a match. It was clear to anyone that he was done fighting, but you proceeded to beat him like a hunk of meat hanging in a freezer! His wife watched the whole time! I can't even imagine the horrors that she saw that night!"
{There was a long pause. The man in the suit glared at the stone eyes behind the mask, but they never once flickered or faltered in their gaze. This only infuriated the man more, but fury did not grant him courage and he kept his distance. Finally, the mask turned away to stare at the wall. A framed picture of the man in the suit, taken ages ago, in a ring with several wrestlers. The people looked happy, like they held some secret that was for them alone.}
"Do you have any family, Nakamura-san?"
{The man in the suit blinked, then slowly swallowed and adjusted his tie as if it had suddenly become fifteen sizes too small.}
"Is.. is that a threat?"
"Merely a question."
"Yes. I have my wife and my son, but you wrestlers are also my family.. even you."
"Yet, you allow us to do such things to one another, and expect things like this not to happen?"
"I expect you to learn a little restraint!"
{The mask turned back around, slowly, until the penetrating gaze was back.}
"Like when Fudo gave Kumiko a concussion that night in Kyoto, lucky thing her wedding veil hid the bruises, no? Or when Kuzo put those two kids in the hospital and fled the scene? Or when Keitaro stabbed that man with a broken beer bottle? I heard he never woke up from his coma."
"How... How do you know all that?"
"It's amazing what you can learn when you stop talking and simply listen."
"But.. those things.. accidents all of them! You had no right to give out some sort of self righteous vengeance!"
"Vengeance? No. Anyone who could do those things and still uphold their sense of honor would have fought me harder than they did. Anyone who could stand in front of their mirror and meet their own gaze after what they did, would have not given up once they realized what I was bringing. They chose to do not only those things, but give into what they themselves considered their penance."
"But.. those things.. outside the ring. Why? They were your brothers!"
"Were they? They chose to follow glory and fame over their hearts, and it corrupted them. They chose to walk the path that was easy, coasting towards what they wanted without trying to make it worthwhile. Those men were not my brothers. Those men were nothing."
{The man in the suit cracked, just a little, and he had to look away as his eyes misted.}
"I surmise I have worn out my welcome here, then. I take my leave of you."
{The man in the suit should be thrilled. He got what he wanted, the man was leaving without a fight. But something about it didn't feel right. Something told him that more was learned for him than the mask.}
"Do you have a family, Kurohito?"
{The mask was almost at the door. He stopped, and spoke without turning his head.}
"No. A family is one who stands by you by choice, rather than obligation. I know of no such person."
-------------------------------------
"I hold fear in my heart for no man. Rob Diamond and Spike Kane may think themselves to be stuff of nightmares, but in truth, I see them as challenges. Any man can be beaten, any beast felled, I hold no illusions of being invincible, nor any delusions that I cannot win when I fight.
You've stated repeatedly that we should fear you. But what is that but a mere empty threat? We are reminded that you are the best, and yet week after week we are treated to the bravado about what you will do to us, like the words are designed to cut to our core and make us turn tail and run. Seems like a rather contradiction of words to me, you respect us and look forward to proving that you are the best, yet the empty words of the careers you've ended and the nightmares you brought forth have found no substance. Your success has caused many a team to dissolve and run out of the fear of not winning.
We, however, are not the same breed as those.
You want to make me have nightmares about the carnage? I dare you to bring me whatever dark thoughts and painful ideas you can muster inside your heads. I don't want you to try and end my career, or pretend to so you can make a statement of intent. I want more than just your empty words of blood and carnage.
I want an honorable death, as all soldiers do. I don't want more promises and brashness from two legends, I expect them to be better than that. I don't expect demands of fear and respect, I expect them to force those feelings into me.
Frankly, color me disappointed.
I'd rather have you, ready and unafraid, than any other way. I'd rather have you focused on the task instead of simply talking about it. I'd rather have you focused on getting your body ready to bring this carnage rather than dreaming of all the nightmares you cause when you step into the ring.
Go ahead and mock me, Infamous. But I'm not afraid of you.
You may think that you have the righteousness on your side of being called champions, but those are just belts, two of many here and elsewhere. The moment you feel that they are yours to lose..
You lost yourself already to them.
The legacy of this mask is about being true to yourself above all else. That is why Kansuke wore it. That is why Kyle wore, and that is why I wear it. Would Kyle ever say to you, Spike, that you should hold onto your title because you have nothing else?
He'd say that you find something new to fight for, if all else fails, it would be yourself. You know this because he's your friend, I know this because he is my mentor. You are better than this. Rob found a way, because he never stopped fighting. And yet, you expect me to believe that you haven't?
I need say nothing further.
As far as Keeton and Jones go, little has changed. Alex is still on his quest for redemption, which is all well and good, aside from the fact that he will never escape that stigma, and I see it in his eyes each and every week, his heart tells him not to associate himself with a man like Jake Keeton.
He simply lacks the conviction to stand up for his beliefs.
Is it because of the tournament I wonder? Does the allure of gold still hold such a captivating sight that you can't see anything else? Every time it's a new excuse as to why you stick to a situation you clearly want no part of, whether you want no part of it as a matter of honor or because it doesn't fit with your current redemption quest remains to be seen. What is true is that you look inside yourself, see what you want done and what you feel you must do..
And do none of it. Not quite the redemption we're supposed to buy into, is it?
And Keeton, you can simply see it in his reflection. He doesn't want to do what he does, but his belief that he doesn't need to has fallen by the wayside. He feels himself slipping, feels it all catching up to him, and like any predator, will do whatever it takes to keep himself ahead of the pack, a step ahead of becoming prey.
I understand it, Jake, but it's still your honor I find lacking.
Were you able to meet my gaze and tell me straight up that you were doing what you felt you wanted to, I would be perfectly fine with whatever you brought. I've done terrible things for reasons that many people don't want to hear. But when I meet my own gaze in the mirror I know in my heart that what was done, was done because it was right, to me. Which is the only thing that matters.
You may tell yourself that you can say the same, but you'd only be fooling us all, instead of just yourself.
I don't want your fear. I don't want your intimidation or your ideals. I don't care about respect or your history, or your titles.
I want your courage, your heart, your passion, the very reason you live and breathe.
Because that's what you're getting out of me.
Until my body lies limp and my soul has passed into the realm beyond.
My honor will not be broken, no matter how my body is."
-------------------------------
(The following is current.)
"So, that's all I found out. Straight from that Nakamura guy."
Cable: He knows all of this firsthand?
"Yes."
Cable: Lord of death and regret.. That Kanashimi guy in all those videos that did.. all those things...
"Yes. The man you call a partner was the same guy who held such careless disregard for people he considered friends. Think of what he'll do to you."
Cable: Huh...
{Gjenrei appeared as if summoned by magic, standing behind Amber.}
Gjenrei: I'm sorry I interrupted story time. Sorry, your door was open.
"Holy...! Do you ever knock?"
Gjenrei: Do you knock when entering your siblings home?
"Cable is not your brother!"
Gjenrei: I don't think you are capable of making that distinction.
{Amber turned to Cable, looking for back up. He looked like he wasn't paying much attention. She snapped her fingers to get his attention.}
Cable: Huh..? Oh, yea...
{She turned back smugly, satisfied with herself.}
"So, now that he knows what kind of man you are.."
Gjenrei: Were. All the events you know are in the past.
"Doesn't change anything. People never change."
{Gjenrei said nothing, and Amber took this as a sign she won the argument and crossed her arms in triumph.}
"See? No argument. Because he has nothing."
Gjenrei: I'm choosing not to argue with you, because you'd simply dismiss anything I said, no matter how logical or sound. Or am I supposed to believe you've changed?
{Amber's pretty face twisted from smug triumph into hate filled annoyance, and she stormed off out of the room. That left Gjenrei alone with Cable.}
Gjenrei: So, you know...
Cable: Yea.
Gjenrei: Anything changed?
Cable: You heard her... nothing ever changes.
{Cable extended his hand, and Gjenrei took it.}
-----------------------------
"Kurohito Imagawa...
Kanashimi..
Lord of death and regret.
A white porcerlin mask with a single word on it.
The man I was.. is no more..
I am Gjenrei.
One half of Honorbound.
Brothers by the blood shed, not the blood we carry.
The bond that cannot be broken.
Not by legends and nightmares.
Or redemption and elbowpads.
Or feminine wiles.
Nothing."
And thus, the story was told...
--------------------------------------------------
(The following takes place in Japan, so everybody is speaking in Japanese with the courtesy of subtitles.)
"How does it look?"
{The man on the table was covered in blood, his arms and chest were cut multiple times of varying depths. He was breathing, but shallow and appeared to not be concious. A man stood over him, checking his eyes with a pen light. The speaker was another man in an off the rack suit, looking anxious. The first man, clearly a doctor of some kind, shook his head.}
"Bad. He's lost enough blood that if I don't have an emergency team here within the next few minutes for a transfusion, he may not make it. Fortunately, they had the foresight to already be heading this way."
{The man in the suit exhaled a tired sigh. Such things were becoming habitual.}
"Will they make it in time?"
"I'd say there's a sixty percent chance, if that."
"Save him, Kitomi."
"I'll do everything I can, Nakamura-san."
{The man in the suit turned away with one last tired look. Each step toward the door caused his worried lines around his mouth to crease as the frown took center stage. His brow furrowed in anger with each movement, and by the time he reached the door he was downright fuming. He stepped out of the room, almost knocking over two other men, clearly wrestlers, who stood aside and bowed with respect. The man reached into his jacket pocket for his phone and called number one on his contact list. The call was answered immediately.}
"Where is he?"
"I do not know, Nakamura-san. He was not in the locker room, nor in the green room. I have a man searching the parking lot as well as concessions."
"This has gone on too long. I do not care how much it costs or what legal methods we must employ. For the safety of those who step into the ring, we must get rid of him."
"We will, Nakamura-san. This, I promise."
{The man in the suit reached another door, this one with kanji imprinted on it that stood for "boss". He stepped through the door, and was suddenly face to face with a grinning porcelin colored mask. The mask might have held a racious wide smile, but the eyes that stared directly into his soul held no warmth at all. The lone black kanji symbol for "death" seemed as ever an omen up close as it had decoration at a distance.}
"Nakamura-san? Are you still there?"
{The voice on the phone jolted the man in the suit out of his trance.}
"Nevermind, Koto-sama, I found him."
{The voice on the phone talked in hushed and panicked tones, but the man in the suit wasn't listening. Instead he snapped his phone closed. He took a step back, then to the left, increasing the distance between himself and the grinning death mask. The mask did not follow in person, but his eyes never left their piercing gaze.}
"I heard you were searching for me."
------------------------------
"Wrestling, is a funny business. People of different backgrounds, social classes, temperments, ideals, religions, all coming together for one reason.
Because they love what they do.
Whether they love what they do for their own self worth, their own goals of glory and fame, or just the sheer love of doing it night after night, there is always some measure of love. This job is not easy, and by virtue of that, nobody would choose to do it if they did not love it as a student chooses to flip burgers because he has no other choice. The effort it takes to ready oneself for a simple match is staggering when compared to any other job.
Nobody chooses this life because it is easy. Those who try, find themselves on the short ticket to retirement.
A man once told me that you do not choose this life, it chooses you.
The six men in this match have varying backgrounds. Orphans, outcasts, outlaws, the dregs of society have all been our labels during our lives. But we all share the love of that ring, no matter which way we choose to show it. Who we are and what we have done shaped the men standing there now, but the journey is only a part of why we're here.
Because the next step is always more thrilling, the next rush a little more potent than the last. We, as a whole, truly do live for this, it's not simply a tired expression.
This is life. This is how we live. In the ring, we are whole. Between those ropes, we are annointed. When that bell rings, we ascend to heights greater than the angels. It no longer matters who we were a moment before..
Whether you believe a kick to the junk or a loaded elbow pad is righteous or not.
Whether you believe in stories about redemption or whether people can change or not.
Honor is a funny concept. It's not a right path or right decisions like most people feel. It's knowing what your heart tells you is right, and having the conviction to do it even when the entire world is telling you that you're wrong. If you can look at yourself in the mirror after doing what you do and believe that you did the right thing, then you still hold onto your honor.
The reason why people who do evil things don't have it, is because they cannot. If Alex Jones could honestly live with all the "wrongs" he's committed, then he would not need redemption.
I hold my honor in the highest regard, because it's the only thing that matters to a man's soul.
Question it, all you like.
But you'll never break it."
----------------------------------
{It took a moment, but the man in the suit recovered enough to find his voice. He also found that when it came out of his mouth, it was in measured fury. Not uncalled for, but it did not match the unease and quivering in his gut when he looked at the mask.}
"What were you thinking?! Kei might not last the night because of all the torment you put him through! Why do you do these things!?"
{The mask didn't even flinch at the barbs hurled at it. It was merely a shrug.}
"If I did not, do you think he would not have? His hatred for me was never a hidden virtue. Should I simply allow others to decide my fate without reciprocation?"
"He hates you because of what you did to Fudo, and Kozo, and Keitaro! All those men stood in that ring for the love of the sport and you treated them like lifeless toys for your enjoyment! What have they done to deserve such barbarism?!"
"I expected them to be better."
{The man in the suit blinked, as if his brain heard the words, but they refused to register any importance. He shook off the shock and placed both hands on his temples, like he could will the situation away as though it were a minor headache.}
"I don't want to listen to such nonsense! Keitaro was in a coma for three days after the debacle you called a match. It was clear to anyone that he was done fighting, but you proceeded to beat him like a hunk of meat hanging in a freezer! His wife watched the whole time! I can't even imagine the horrors that she saw that night!"
{There was a long pause. The man in the suit glared at the stone eyes behind the mask, but they never once flickered or faltered in their gaze. This only infuriated the man more, but fury did not grant him courage and he kept his distance. Finally, the mask turned away to stare at the wall. A framed picture of the man in the suit, taken ages ago, in a ring with several wrestlers. The people looked happy, like they held some secret that was for them alone.}
"Do you have any family, Nakamura-san?"
{The man in the suit blinked, then slowly swallowed and adjusted his tie as if it had suddenly become fifteen sizes too small.}
"Is.. is that a threat?"
"Merely a question."
"Yes. I have my wife and my son, but you wrestlers are also my family.. even you."
"Yet, you allow us to do such things to one another, and expect things like this not to happen?"
"I expect you to learn a little restraint!"
{The mask turned back around, slowly, until the penetrating gaze was back.}
"Like when Fudo gave Kumiko a concussion that night in Kyoto, lucky thing her wedding veil hid the bruises, no? Or when Kuzo put those two kids in the hospital and fled the scene? Or when Keitaro stabbed that man with a broken beer bottle? I heard he never woke up from his coma."
"How... How do you know all that?"
"It's amazing what you can learn when you stop talking and simply listen."
"But.. those things.. accidents all of them! You had no right to give out some sort of self righteous vengeance!"
"Vengeance? No. Anyone who could do those things and still uphold their sense of honor would have fought me harder than they did. Anyone who could stand in front of their mirror and meet their own gaze after what they did, would have not given up once they realized what I was bringing. They chose to do not only those things, but give into what they themselves considered their penance."
"But.. those things.. outside the ring. Why? They were your brothers!"
"Were they? They chose to follow glory and fame over their hearts, and it corrupted them. They chose to walk the path that was easy, coasting towards what they wanted without trying to make it worthwhile. Those men were not my brothers. Those men were nothing."
{The man in the suit cracked, just a little, and he had to look away as his eyes misted.}
"I surmise I have worn out my welcome here, then. I take my leave of you."
{The man in the suit should be thrilled. He got what he wanted, the man was leaving without a fight. But something about it didn't feel right. Something told him that more was learned for him than the mask.}
"Do you have a family, Kurohito?"
{The mask was almost at the door. He stopped, and spoke without turning his head.}
"No. A family is one who stands by you by choice, rather than obligation. I know of no such person."
-------------------------------------
"I hold fear in my heart for no man. Rob Diamond and Spike Kane may think themselves to be stuff of nightmares, but in truth, I see them as challenges. Any man can be beaten, any beast felled, I hold no illusions of being invincible, nor any delusions that I cannot win when I fight.
You've stated repeatedly that we should fear you. But what is that but a mere empty threat? We are reminded that you are the best, and yet week after week we are treated to the bravado about what you will do to us, like the words are designed to cut to our core and make us turn tail and run. Seems like a rather contradiction of words to me, you respect us and look forward to proving that you are the best, yet the empty words of the careers you've ended and the nightmares you brought forth have found no substance. Your success has caused many a team to dissolve and run out of the fear of not winning.
We, however, are not the same breed as those.
You want to make me have nightmares about the carnage? I dare you to bring me whatever dark thoughts and painful ideas you can muster inside your heads. I don't want you to try and end my career, or pretend to so you can make a statement of intent. I want more than just your empty words of blood and carnage.
I want an honorable death, as all soldiers do. I don't want more promises and brashness from two legends, I expect them to be better than that. I don't expect demands of fear and respect, I expect them to force those feelings into me.
Frankly, color me disappointed.
I'd rather have you, ready and unafraid, than any other way. I'd rather have you focused on the task instead of simply talking about it. I'd rather have you focused on getting your body ready to bring this carnage rather than dreaming of all the nightmares you cause when you step into the ring.
Go ahead and mock me, Infamous. But I'm not afraid of you.
You may think that you have the righteousness on your side of being called champions, but those are just belts, two of many here and elsewhere. The moment you feel that they are yours to lose..
You lost yourself already to them.
The legacy of this mask is about being true to yourself above all else. That is why Kansuke wore it. That is why Kyle wore, and that is why I wear it. Would Kyle ever say to you, Spike, that you should hold onto your title because you have nothing else?
He'd say that you find something new to fight for, if all else fails, it would be yourself. You know this because he's your friend, I know this because he is my mentor. You are better than this. Rob found a way, because he never stopped fighting. And yet, you expect me to believe that you haven't?
I need say nothing further.
As far as Keeton and Jones go, little has changed. Alex is still on his quest for redemption, which is all well and good, aside from the fact that he will never escape that stigma, and I see it in his eyes each and every week, his heart tells him not to associate himself with a man like Jake Keeton.
He simply lacks the conviction to stand up for his beliefs.
Is it because of the tournament I wonder? Does the allure of gold still hold such a captivating sight that you can't see anything else? Every time it's a new excuse as to why you stick to a situation you clearly want no part of, whether you want no part of it as a matter of honor or because it doesn't fit with your current redemption quest remains to be seen. What is true is that you look inside yourself, see what you want done and what you feel you must do..
And do none of it. Not quite the redemption we're supposed to buy into, is it?
And Keeton, you can simply see it in his reflection. He doesn't want to do what he does, but his belief that he doesn't need to has fallen by the wayside. He feels himself slipping, feels it all catching up to him, and like any predator, will do whatever it takes to keep himself ahead of the pack, a step ahead of becoming prey.
I understand it, Jake, but it's still your honor I find lacking.
Were you able to meet my gaze and tell me straight up that you were doing what you felt you wanted to, I would be perfectly fine with whatever you brought. I've done terrible things for reasons that many people don't want to hear. But when I meet my own gaze in the mirror I know in my heart that what was done, was done because it was right, to me. Which is the only thing that matters.
You may tell yourself that you can say the same, but you'd only be fooling us all, instead of just yourself.
I don't want your fear. I don't want your intimidation or your ideals. I don't care about respect or your history, or your titles.
I want your courage, your heart, your passion, the very reason you live and breathe.
Because that's what you're getting out of me.
Until my body lies limp and my soul has passed into the realm beyond.
My honor will not be broken, no matter how my body is."
-------------------------------
(The following is current.)
"So, that's all I found out. Straight from that Nakamura guy."
Cable: He knows all of this firsthand?
"Yes."
Cable: Lord of death and regret.. That Kanashimi guy in all those videos that did.. all those things...
"Yes. The man you call a partner was the same guy who held such careless disregard for people he considered friends. Think of what he'll do to you."
Cable: Huh...
{Gjenrei appeared as if summoned by magic, standing behind Amber.}
Gjenrei: I'm sorry I interrupted story time. Sorry, your door was open.
"Holy...! Do you ever knock?"
Gjenrei: Do you knock when entering your siblings home?
"Cable is not your brother!"
Gjenrei: I don't think you are capable of making that distinction.
{Amber turned to Cable, looking for back up. He looked like he wasn't paying much attention. She snapped her fingers to get his attention.}
Cable: Huh..? Oh, yea...
{She turned back smugly, satisfied with herself.}
"So, now that he knows what kind of man you are.."
Gjenrei: Were. All the events you know are in the past.
"Doesn't change anything. People never change."
{Gjenrei said nothing, and Amber took this as a sign she won the argument and crossed her arms in triumph.}
"See? No argument. Because he has nothing."
Gjenrei: I'm choosing not to argue with you, because you'd simply dismiss anything I said, no matter how logical or sound. Or am I supposed to believe you've changed?
{Amber's pretty face twisted from smug triumph into hate filled annoyance, and she stormed off out of the room. That left Gjenrei alone with Cable.}
Gjenrei: So, you know...
Cable: Yea.
Gjenrei: Anything changed?
Cable: You heard her... nothing ever changes.
{Cable extended his hand, and Gjenrei took it.}
-----------------------------
"Kurohito Imagawa...
Kanashimi..
Lord of death and regret.
A white porcerlin mask with a single word on it.
The man I was.. is no more..
I am Gjenrei.
One half of Honorbound.
Brothers by the blood shed, not the blood we carry.
The bond that cannot be broken.
Not by legends and nightmares.
Or redemption and elbowpads.
Or feminine wiles.
Nothing."
Well howdy there pardner.