【 MIASMA. 】

📲 Someone with the conviction worthy to wield me for my endeavors.
📲 I had hoped that you would suffice… thus I allowed you to feed upon me, in hopes of forming a contract with you.
📲 Alas… if you fear death, you are not the one I search for. Still… your anguish amuses me.

📲 Not unalike you, I too, am a spirit of sorts.
📲 Not birthed of punishment, but retribution. I seek vengeance against those that would seek to trample upon others without a second thought. To bring peace through their pain. Their suffering.

📲 I ask because I am searching for a master.

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📲 What the hell have you been doing for 200 years.
📲 What do you cling to this life for if you despise it so? Have you not the will to rise above this?

Aren’t you tired of being nice..? Don’t you want to go apeshit?

📲 So what will you do?
📲 Are you content with this?

📲 It is if you can’t even remember your past. Perhaps you’re deserving of the punishment…

📲 Corpse eating spirit. Cursed for your greed.
📲 Ha.

📲 Better. I will not offer my flesh again if you’re to be ungrateful
📲 On the matter… what possesses you to have such abnormal cravings?

📲 Yes. That was me.
📲 You could’ve said ‘thank you’.
📲 You were quite rude. Tomio.

📲 I was not put on this feculent earth to be mocked by the likes of thee.
📲 Call me Miasma.

📲 Do you have a better one?
📲 Oaf.

📲 What else would you have remembered me by. Tis, I.

#—🖤🗡️

It has a gravely voice, and tends to speak with a growl or certain rasp to its tone. Still looking for “the one” but Jeremy Irons’ performance as Scar from the Lion King fits pretty well!

“I don’t think it’s in the stars that I will be reborn to meet you again. I will fade, and become nothing more than the ash beneath your heels. My duty will have been done, and I will no longer be needed”

“Tell me then, master… if you will mourn me, see if I care”

Wretched sun…

“Can’t it hurry up and be night already…”, it grouses as it peers outside

Another part may seek to self-sabotage and destroy whatever bonds could’ve been forged, acting beneath the will of its baleful nature.

It would even come to detest needing a master to wield it.

Being that it has the souls of humans and beasts alike, it is always at odds with itself. One piece may desire compassion, comfort, and even companionship out of the symbiotic relationship that it has with its master.

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#—🖤🗡️

The thought of it caring for anything other than itself and its goals is so sickening to it, to be tied back to one of the many hearts that make up itself feels akin to being poisoned.

It desires not for gentle domestication, or even to be tamed, were it a more prideful revenant…

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It wonders if it should say anything else at all… sensing something else unspoken by the other.

“… you are welcome”, it finishes its thought instead.

“You are satisfied then, yes?”, it asks as its hand is relinquished for it to apply a bit of pressure on.

The gauze wrapped around its wrists are tugged up and over the newly made wound.

“If there is naught else you require, I will take my leave now”, it furrowed a brow beneath the gauze.

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It watches, with eyes unblinking as he consumes it.

The body reacts more than it does, fingers twitching with the discomfort of the action. It seems expectant.

“Well?”

“If you doubt my conviction I will tear the skin myself. I do not offer this lightly. Eat or don’t”, it scowls, almost offended by the question.

The only thing that it could not promise was if it would taste any good… knowing what it’s made of.

“… If this be thy will”, it lifts its hand.

You… we have seen you before… no— but that would be impossible.

The time is not yet right either.

The night may be upon them, but it would not do to make itself known out in the open. His type didn’t typically have a permanent residence, no? When they make for an inn or something of that sort, it will strike.

Perhaps there is more it can divine on the way…

Never, would it be able to see its goals accomplished before the end had it remained in such inexperienced hands.

Still, it would measure this man. It would know if he were worthy to wield the weight of its hatred given form. The sword does not require anything of him yet.

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Alas, his musings are but idle thoughts given voice. It doesn’t even know why it seemed hopeful to be noticed. It would change naught, only delaying the inevitable for when it wished not to be a sword no longer.

‘ You speak true, samurai… ‘ , it groused, begrudgingly finding itself in agreement

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The lowly creature is talking to it.

And for a sliver of a second, it wonders if he can sense it. Perhaps there is more to him than meets the eye, for having such a feat as sensing its spirit within. The sword in hand narrows its veiled gaze, is it supposed to be flattered by such comments?

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