[Over]soul Brothers [Tahamunt]

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by xHajinn

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“It seems to me that we have a classic case of ‘good vigilante, bad spirit’ here – don’t we? SO! In the interest of playing my part, I’ll offer you the illusion of choice: In the next fifteen to twenty minutes, would you like to be a disemboweled husk supine in a local operating theater or a paraplegic? After all, I can’t kill you, but there are so many boulevards on the mortal coil worse than death… Wouldn’t you agree, Kamunt?”

Idyllic as my youth was, I never questioned the matriarch’s adage: ‘No matter the reason, never raise a weapon to a fellow individual.’ ‘Twas the reason she was so keen on instructing me in variations of self-defense and reactive martial arts, I suspect. In fact, this ideology was thoroughly engrained into my code of ethics and nonaggression that I had forgotten that I had forgotten it verbatim until I had took it upon myself to collect and equip a particular ochre feline’s blade post-merger. The resulting spiritual resonation was as puissant as it was instantaneous, throwing the proximate surroundings into raw tumult as my feline’s ginger; metaphysical ichor percolated forth and wreathed itself around the object.

Never have I considered myself to be explicitly ecclesiastical beyond my monotheism, but that did little to halt the chaotic din that swilled my lungs and burst forth to offer praise to every single god in existence – abandoned or otherwise. In fact, I was forced to sheath it lest I collapse from the wild incursion of intoxicating stimuli. Unfurling my hand from the knife’s hilt carried the same unease as parting with a limb. At first, I figured it was some sort of grimoire-presided hex that forbade me from even fraternizing with armaments (and that was the reason my mother instructed me to avoid them) until I started making sense of that sensory spate. What I felt… What I feel now whenever I wield this personal deterrent… It was pure, indelible gratification. It did its part to rouse and thrill my inner righteous fury on a plane that I’ve only recently deciphered.

Legendary, ‘grand’ vehemence harmonized with an arcane bloodlust, and the resulting hymn now sings praise to the union I forged that faithful night. Even the smallest physical altercation wound into an exhilarating aria as spectral passion wove with tangible ardor, now made manifest by my ferocious feline’s diaphanous visage enveloping the tool of his prior adventuring trade. It’s one of the few times I summon him involuntarily, and in a incorporeal form that even the most mystically challenged person can see. So rises the zeitgeist of yesteryear’s heyday, as our partnership had taken on an entirely new meaning.

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”Ah, you’ve one of those types, eh? Hewn in antiquated pertinacity and unable to give up the ghost… You do realize that there’s no shame in making a tactical retreat! Actually, that would speak to your shrewdness! Live to fight another day with renewed (and perhaps even high-minded) purpose! Or, you know, continue your tryst with the void and exercise your utter futility. At the end of the day, it’s your choice. I certainly won’t impede either path you take. Neither will my partner here, who’d really rather just consume you whole and do away with the pleasantries.”

While I’m usually about as adroit with a blade (or any sort of ordinance, for that matter) as a newborn sans my attunement to the Void, this particular knife felt peculiar, as if there was a hand atop my own guiding me through the techniques. Meshing that unconscious tutelage with my extensive knowledge of hand-to-hand combat made for an experience I can only weakly describe as ‘fighting together’ rather than simply ‘fighting as one’. During lull periods and elusory free time, we practiced hoisting our mutual delirium during our synchronization and combining our strengths – not to mention laying out scheme after scheme to account for any and all weaknesses. Collaborating like such and developing a unified style was nothing short of uncanny, given the bizarre circumstances… However, to be amalgamated in such a way… Well, there’s no way I could encapsulate virgin satisfaction like that with mere journaled articulation, no matter how erudite I might fancy myself.

All I do know is that, for an incomplete and cognitive fusion, I’d be hard pressed to describe another point in my life where I felt such opaque oneness join hands with the partition of identity. I couldn’t ask for a more enriching periphery and familiar.

"	”Shall we do the pitiable being the honors, kittybeau?”

- 死ぬ!! -

Art © Fayr
Thanks a bunch for handling this, hun! ‘Twas an odd concept, but you handled it beautifully.
Inspiration: Shaman King, Soul Eater – Of course~!
Kamunt © Himself

Keywords

feline 139,163, king 4,049, knife 3,214, housecat 2,546, fusion 2,478, combat 1,156, blade 1,032, soul 855, shaman 422, eater 112, possat 103, astral 103, tahajin 55, projection 15, kamunt 7

Details

Type: Picture/Pinup

Published: 10 years, 2 months ago

Rating: General

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