Blood Lust

Vana'diel date: 886/6/8
Place: Port Bastok, Rent-a-room
Posted on 01 Jun 2012 17:41

Jenare looked at the midnight-black blade in front of him. It seemed to suck all light within itself, and was maybe heavier than would be expected of a sword of its size and build. He'd received it earlier today from a man called Zeid, a Dark Knight. It was partially a case of mistaken intention, and partially a case of him not even wanting to correct it. Ever since that afternoon of Celestial Nights not even that long ago, he had been feeling admittedly reckless. To think that all this time, this twin sister of Kii's had been taking her place, impersonating her. While he could understand her reasons intellectually, his heart did not want to forgive or understand. Maybe that was why the blade drew him so. He reached out and placed his hand on the blade. Not particularly hot or warm. But he could feel it, it craved for blood.
He thought back to Zeid's words.To satisfy the lust for blood, to drink in the blood of its use the anger and darkness within, use all your strength in taking down your opponent. Nothing but your strength, your anger, and in the nothingness, with you..the sword. He picked it up. It felt like the right time.
"Kupolin. I have need for my sturdier armor."
"Right away, master!" The moogle disappeared in the customary swirl of energy. Jenare looked around the rental room. He was in Bastok, where he had ended up traveling after that afternoon. He'd meant to visit Endahren, but when he'd arrived to the city he hadn't felt like it anymore, and had instead half-heartedly decided to help out a young Galka he'd talked with several times before, and chased word of the Dark Knight Zeid to Palborough Mines. That's how he'd ended up here and now.
Kupolin returned from San d'Oria with his armor, cheerfully flitting about and showing how well-kept they were. Jenare suspected that either the moogle was a very good reader of character but responded in unconventional ways, or he just had a very bad sense of timing for his weird moods. Over time, the two had built a working relationship of largely leaving each other alone unless the situation called for interaction. Usually, Jenare rather liked the moogle, but his mind was dwelling in unpleasant enough thoughts that he didn't have much room for joviality for the moment. He nodded absentmindedly and put on the armor with some help from the cheery moogle. All the while, the sword called for him. He felt like he couldn't take his eyes off of it for very long, like it had an inner gravity he was very susceptible to.
"Well then. I'm out. Don't wait up." Jenare picked up the sword and slung it on his back. It was much bigger than the swords he was used to handling. He might have some difficulty fighting with it. For the moment, it didn't matter.
"Have a good hunting trip, kupo!" Kupolin wished him cheerfully.

The sun was setting. Jenare took a deep breath. It was strangely calming in a way, swinging this big sword. He was just getting used to it, and it was easier than he had thought. Giving in to the sword, merely being in a state of seemed like the sword wanted him to learn how to use it. All he had to do was give in to it.
A familiar buzzing came from behind. A bee. He turned around and raised the Chaosbringer. Concentrate, let go. Give in. He swung the sword, and the bee was cut cleanly in half. "Fifteen."
As he raised the sword again and looked around to search for more prey, he wouldn't have recognized his own face if he'd seen it. Adorning it was a crazed grin telling of blood lust and beneath it, regret.

Category: Memories

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