[A practitioner. Zenyatta hums, head to one side in some pleasing combination of intrigue and amusement, though he does not interrupt to- well, not quite correct, but steer his new acquaintance down a more accurate path. His patience pays off in a scant few seconds, because suddenly he is presented with an entirely new and altogether more interesting line of questioning.
As if in anticipation, he picks up his own cup and raises it to his faceplate. Not to drink, of course- that would be impolite here- but it gives his receptors a better chance to profile the steam.]
By "sword", do you mean that you were his guard? [But then, why should that mean he should bear his master's name as such? It does not bear out.]
That is...no, not exactly. I was his actual sword. [ Said in a very dry an monotonous way this might seem like a joke, but it hardly was. Kousetsu's eyes tick down to the sheathed sword at his side. ]
My true form is that of the sword wielded by my master. I am...a spirit of that sword, a tsukumogami.
[It takes a moment or two for that to process- but Zenyatta is perhaps more open-minded than most, and once it does he gives an inspired little ahhh!]
I see! How fascinating! I have heard ancient stories of household objects coming to life, once they have reached a significant age, but never weapons taking on a human form. [There is about his voice a gentle smile, soft and encouraging; he would be the last person to question another's claim to personhood.] He must have had great faith in you.
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As if in anticipation, he picks up his own cup and raises it to his faceplate. Not to drink, of course- that would be impolite here- but it gives his receptors a better chance to profile the steam.]
By "sword", do you mean that you were his guard? [But then, why should that mean he should bear his master's name as such? It does not bear out.]
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My true form is that of the sword wielded by my master. I am...a spirit of that sword, a tsukumogami.
no subject
I see! How fascinating! I have heard ancient stories of household objects coming to life, once they have reached a significant age, but never weapons taking on a human form. [There is about his voice a gentle smile, soft and encouraging; he would be the last person to question another's claim to personhood.] He must have had great faith in you.