What Sweet Sadness is Killing?

"Cruelty and pain will always leave an indelible mark upon the mind, even should they not scar the body." He remarks. "A simple comment can change the course of someone's entire life... But you are correct in some measure. To blindly throw about that cruelty is foolish. It should be used like any weapon- Sparingly, so that it does not lose its edge." He speaks evenly as they walk, that silver hand extending to gently caress and run along the flora that they passed by. "The words and remarks of others serve a small purpose. They remind me that I am not like them- And that is alright, for I am different. In more ways than just my limbs." His words are soft, but the tone is truthful. It would seem that the comments of others didn't bother him too much.

"Humans are flawed, as are all creatures that hold to life. We are all missing pieces that we search for. Be it by eating, drinking, or searching for our metaphorical purpose... All of us are driven by the need for something. Only in death may such flawed creatures rest, and that, like cruelty to kindness, is the most beautiful duality to life." He smiles from beneath his mask. "Morality has little consequence when one meets with the Lamb and the Wolf, don't you think?" He chuckles, voice warm despite the macabre subject. Unlike Robin's, though, it is contrasting to the sounds around them despite being no louder than usual. The disruption isn't harsh or unpleasant. Rather, it's a change to the surroundings. Something that can be adapted to.

That dual colored gaze roams over the clearing, observant but not critical. "Your gardens remind me of those I tend back home, though... Less tamed. More free and natural. Perhaps I should take notes." He muses softly. Of course he notices what's off with the atmosphere, but he feels no need to comment on it. After all, what would be the point of that?

Somehow this soothes him, he is unsure why speaking about such a topic brings a smile to his face but then again, twas rare for Robin to meet such interesting individuals. Most were dull and drab but this…no, something about this man intrigued him, like a moth to a candle, and he was eager to listen to what other poetry might possible leave Khada's lips. He remarks the way his voice sounds, how it is a low, smooth sound compared to the tweeting birds and whispering stream beside them, and it does not catch him by surprise how the surroundings seem to form around the sound perfectly.

The mage caresses across his plants, not quite noticing how they appear to turn towards him, as if to welcome him home, "I find that nature's own chaos is far more beautiful than any man-made containment…if they were not meant to grow as such, they wouldn't. Mmm~" he chuckles lightly and gazes back to Jhin as the sunlight twinkles through the trees leaves and colors the garden with splashes of light, a stark contrast to the horror within. Oh what secrets were whispered about the wide-eyed spirit in verdant clothing that wanders about the Ionian country-side? Surely mothers had told their children about this place, about a lush garden where humans could not venture into lest they want to be taken away.

But Khada Jhin was no mere human.

Of course, Robin was blithely unaware of such a thing, when one spends so long hidden beneath the canopy of woodland leaves they often do not care much for idle chit chat. Not when conversations such as these could happen, not when his strange ramblings were taken seriously for the first time in quite a while. He keeps his unearthly gaze locked onto Jhin as he steps into his shack and gathers many herbs, a steaming pot, and a single cup all placed delicately atop a tray. Finally he arrives back into the rays of light and sets down his items in order to settle himself and mix the herbs properly.

Beside them, the fawn hesitantly approaches the artist, seemingly curious due in part to Robin's behavior, and it slowly brings its nose across the back of Jhin's knuckles. It lifts its head up and close in order to gaze into the virtuoso's eyes before it huffed and pulled back, following its mother over to the stream. Their hooves brushed across the soil, stomping over a large patch of Ghoul Fungus-- if one knew anything about such things...the horror of what was being fed on would come to fruition. The mage, unaware, smiles slightly as he steeps the tea with a low sigh, he does not seem tired, however and instead begins to speak with a light tone,

"It isn't often I've visitors…you know, there are many things in this land to be frightened of, Khada, yet you walk into the home of a stranger without fear. Only the highest of predators do not fear the possibility of becoming prey….so.." he lifts his gaze up to him, "what kind of predator are you? You don't seem to be apart of the Kinkou, or the Order of Shadows." Robin tilts his head to the side, 3 butterflies of various colors landing upon his hat,

"You needn't fear anything from me, Khada. I have no intention of getting involved with any matters outside of my garden."

Still, his intrigue draws him forward, step by silver step. Those eyes take in every detail whilst the blind mage is inside, lingering on the Ghoul Fungus. Those implications make his lips twist into an amused smirk until the fawn takes it upon itself to sniff at the artist's hands. Fingers twitch lightly, and he looks down to meet the gaze of innocence. No words are said, but something must be conveyed in that moment that sends the fawn back to its mother.

Khada lifts his head, turning his gaze to Robin as he speaks. The question pulls a saccharine sweet laugh from the artist's lips. "Well, now, those are names I wouldn't expect to leave the lips of something as innocent looking as you." His eyes narrow, and his head tilts toward the fungus. "Enough of one that I know just what that pretty little patch of mushrooms means, Robin. Though I'm curious... Before I disclose my secrets to you, what do you make of me?"

There are a myriad of well hidden traps, as well. The mechanical lotuses click softly as they prime themselves when the man draws near. So well made were they that they easily blended into their surroundings. Only one had been triggered thus far, and it had a spray of blood near it. Likely where the child had been attacked.

Jhin himself had not stayed long enough to see Zed arrive. He'd already known the man would come, and had departed shortly after the child had. However, those golden prosthetics that had replaced the legs taken by the trio all those years earlier? They had a very particular footprint. A long claw-like toe meant to anchor the virtuoso when in full configuration was all it took to give away which tracks were his.

The first time he pursued Khada Jhin, it had been years before the demon was caught. Demon was not the right word, though; a fact Zed had resented since its discovery, the first that led to his deep disappointment in his former master. There was no connection between Jhin and the spirit realm, no innate necessity to cause pain or feed that led to his twisted acts. The murderer was only a man — and had Kusho listened all those years ago, how many lives would have been saved by now?

Lingering on bitterness towards the Kinkou philosophy would not make a difference now. The yánléi is certain this will not prove an easy task to undertake on his own, but he refuses to get Shen involved again; mercy led them to this cycle. The Eye of Twilight would have Jhin spared once more, but Zed is not Kinkou, not beholden to their laws (one more thing Shen would not forgive him for, perhaps, a final disrespect towards their master's ways, but it doesn't matter; this infraction he will be glad to commit).

Age-old experience guides his gaze as he examines the crime scene. The clues are purposeful, Zed can tell; does it matter, nevertheless, when they will take him to the killer all the same? The more swiftly he moves, the sooner Jhin will be dealt with. There is no lack of caution on his part, well aware of the Virtuoso's penchant for traps. One of them, triggered and bloodied, denounces the location where his pupil had fallen prey to the man's schemes; there are more, however, that one less familiar with Jhin may have failed to see, masterfully concealed in the environment. Disarming them would take too long. He knows the others will be on high alert, should they come this way, knowing what befell Lin; still, even as he continues his path south following the footprints left behind, his shadows are used to trigger more of the traps from a safe distance. Less potential harm, a more visible warning, just in case another chose to follow.

Who knows how long the artist had tracked the assassin's disciples. What honeyed words he'd sent their way to tempt and tease them into his macabre play. A game they never had any chance to win. How many, truly, had fallen victim to the Golden Demon? Rehearsals and failed takes? The perfect timing of the roots that had grown through the child's body couldn't have been a simple gambit of luck.

Idle musings, really. Nothing could be done for his victims now.

The traps, in truth, served a dual purpose. Slowing people down was their main goal, but they also alerted their creator to the location of his pursuer, should he have one. Perfect lips curl into a smile as he feels the magic in each trap triggered. Truthfully, the master of shadows had nearly taken too long. Some of those traps had been nearing their expiration, and Jhin was not one to stay where he could not track the man who wished to murder him.

It's a temple that Zed is led to. An old, uninhabited one that bears the telltale marks of the Noxian invasion. The virtuoso could not be seen- initially. But there was no doubt that he was there. The place was absolutely covered in lotus traps. An eerie silence hangs heavy in the temple- Not even the sound of insects could be heard. It was as if the world was holding its breath.

Then, the silence was broken by a single voice. A voice Zed would know very well.

What words or phrases do they overuse?

Do they have a catchphrase?

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Are they introverted, extroverted, or ambiverted?

Do they ever put on airs?

What bad habits do they have?

What makes them laugh out loud?

How do they display affection?

How do they want to be seen by others?

How do they see themselves?

How are they seen by others?

Strongest character trait?

Weakest character trait?

How competitive are they?

Do they make snap judgements or take time to consider?

How do they react to praise?

How do they react to criticism?

What is their greatest fear?

What are their biggest secrets?

What is their philosophy of life?

When was the last time they cried?

What haunts them?

What are their political views?

What will they stand up for?

Who do they quote?

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?

What is their sinful little habit?

What sense do they most rely on?

How do they treat people better than them?

How do they treat people worse than them?

What quality do they most value in a friend?

What do they consider an overrated virtue?

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

What is their obsession?

What are their pet peeves?