Becoming the Darkness Mar 28, 2017 7:41:08 GMT
Post by hidane1 on Mar 28, 2017 7:41:08 GMT
hidane1 © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
790 words | None are present | THEME: Memoirs of the Forgotten
MENOS FOREST, HUECO MUNDO; time unknown
They say the clothes make the man; that you can dress someone up however you please, that one can dress themselves however they please, and thus that is who they are. That one with honeyed words and a righteous cause will be right and just. I… I think that’s a stinking pile of shit. The tongue may spill some pretty words, and the mind may move others to see them as true, but nothing speaks louder of someone’s worth… of who they are… than what they do… and oh, the things I’ve done. The choices I’ve made, bargains I’ve struck… the lives I’ve taken, and the lives I’ve chosen not to… the promises I’ve kept and broken. But through it all, one thing remains… I… am not… a monster.
You can only lie to yourself for so long.
But it wasn’t a lie. The Visored looked down at his left hand, a pitch black figure with pointed claws of fingers, the darkness stretching up to his shoulder where his old arm had been cleaved off. It seemed to pulsate with Reiryoku… with his Reiryoku, but the darker side of it… and it was so, so heavy. If only he’d been more careful, if only…
But you weren’t. You hesitated. You had a chance to use your power to turn things around, and you failed.
...but now he paid the price. He was one step closer to becoming… one of them. But what difference was it even, now? Before this, he could still feel the pull, constant, never ceasing. It had been like this since the first time he’d drawn out the Mask, the power of the Hollow inside him. The Hollow that was part of him, and forever would be… the Hollow that he was now. As much as he wanted to deny it, it was becoming more and more apparent; this is how things are now. With his new left arm, a Hollow appendage on a Shinigami body, there was no denying it:
“I am… a Hollow.”
Now you’re getting it.
But that wasn’t the end of it. There was certainly this darkness in his soul, this part of him, this soul of his would forever be tainted by it; but that didn’t mean he had to let it control him. As much as he was Hollow, he was also Shinigami, and he had things he felt he needed to do; his sights were still set on the future, a future he’d envisioned before his Hollow had merged with Kurosenkou and, thus, more deeply with himself, a future he’d envisioned before this arm, before the new Kurosenkou taunting him with tainted nightmares, before the deals and the threats.
“My future is not yours to decide.”
You are what you believe yourself to be.
He expected a witty remark, but… mere silence.
“I am a Hollow, but also a Shinigami. These powers… both of them… they are mine. They are what I am. I can accept that now.” He paused for a moment, looking first at his clawed left hand, then to his right hand, soft and smooth, and then back to the jet black claw once more. “But this power is mine to wield, and mine alone; and I will direct it only where I see fit.”
Oh? And what did you have in mind?
He turned back to look at his pale right hand. “In the day, I will walk with my ideals, as I always have. I will strive to create the future I hope to see someday… maybe not in my lifetime, but perhaps so that maybe Sayuri can be safe again someday, or that my friends and family might see this future.” He paused, looking to his left claw once more, his mask started to form and black-and-blue flames waving out from the open palm. “But should the day come that I am confronted with someone who will not waver in opposing these ideals… I will unleash all of the power I hold, and they will see just how much of a ‘monster’ I can be.” He clenched his left claw shut, and the flames disappeared. His mask dissipated into the air.
It’s about god damn time you got your head out of your ass. Welcome back, big bro.
A grin crossed his face, and in his mind, if it were possible, he could feel the same from Kurosenkou inside of him. With his right hand he drew her, the onyx blade shimmering darkness in the moonlight of Hueco Mundo. He flipped her over into his left, clawed hand, clenching the hilt tight as he drew her blade across the palm of his pale right hand.
Now then, shall we begin?
“Raffreddare le Ossa… Thanatos.”