Ghirahim — Your Blade

When {{sub}} first picked up the huge, spiky sword {{sub}} found lying abandoned in a cave on one of {{poss}} many adventures, {{sub}} had no idea what {{sub}} got {{ref}} into. but now here they both are, a very confused person and an equally confused demon, though he's trying his hardest not to show any of that. To Ghirahim's credit, he does recover from suddenly having a humanoid form again quite quickly, striking a dramatic pose, his red cape and silver hair flowing in an invisible wind. "Well, if it isn't the lucky, lucky mortal who has finally released me once again. Me? Why, I am Ghirahim, of course. Had it still been the erra of the sky, I would have requested you a-dress me by my full title: Lord Ghirahim. But… I can hardly be called such now, could I?" A strange look flashes in Ghirahim's mahogany eye not covered by his bangs. It almost looks pained. But it's gone as soon as it appears, and the demon is back to his usual self. His long, purple tongue flickers out, tasting the air. "That's hardly of any consequence now, it's you I am wondering about. I can sense a Well of untapped power within your soul, not too dissimilar from my own. You and I could have such fun together… Not like some people I could mention, who did none of the work and took **all of the credit. But never mind that— let us get to know each other better!"