#jenessathedarkwraith

[jenessa-mercier]

[While digging through my old hard drive to see what goodies I had locked away, I stumbled across this very old screenshot of Jenessa. Figured I'd pop it here. Enjoy!]

[jenessa-mercier]

Rekindling of an Old Wraith... (drabble)

Swords flashed, sparks burning briefly from the intensity of the collision of the weapons. The Hollows had been drawn by the sound but the yells and curses kept them on the fringe of the light. Two figures in the torchlight moved rapidly against each other, silver steel contrasting sharply against his opponent’s own Abyss black armor. Marcus stepped back, panting heavily and wiping blood from his face, the shallow wound obscuring his left eye. His helm had been torn off in the heat of combat due to Jenessa’s fierce onslaught, the strong steel had been crushed underfoot and left unwearable. Her skill had surprised him immensely, the strange sword in her hand was handled in a fashion he was completely unfamiliar with. Under her skull mask, Jenessa was grinning a grin tinted with malice and hunger. Her quarry had nowhere to run now, the dark was hers after all and with his unfamiliarity with the land, the Darkmoon would be able to track her with ease. His stupidity at not bringing a shield surprised her but the knightess merely attributed it with his arrogance. “Father is going to take your and Verit, you know that right?!” Marcus spat at her, stepping to the left and away from the strange hand that had proved itself capable of deflecting his strikes with some sort of some intangible energy. The sword was something he needed to get rid of first, although the blade on her hip and strapped along her lower did not escape his attention... “Is that so?” Jenessa retorted, mentally drawing her pyromancy flame to her left hand and backpedaling as he moved to close the distance. Feeling her heel touch the lower wall that signaled this area’s limits, she let loose a splash of flames towards Marcus, the orange and crimson flames curling skyward as they burst into existence. He yelped and stumbled backwards, swatting at the flames that had clung to his surcoat, the fabric smoking heavily. The brief distraction was enough for her to maneuver out her position and regain the open floor, angling her weapon towards as her brother regained his composure. He turned to face her once more, his cheeks a faint pink and his fury evident on his face.  “Verit, he wants alive, but you? All he really needs is your blood.” Marcus growled, moving in once more. This time, Jenessa saw the blow and moved forward as well, catching the length of the blade in her gauntlet. The movement prevented her from retaliating as he seized her blade as well, forcing the point away from his exposed face.  They grappled back and forth, Marcus having the advantage in strength and size but Jenessa had the experience born of fighting nearly everyday. Even with that, she felt Marcus trapping her leg with his own and in a fit of desperation, the knightess did the only thing she could.  Jenessa slammed her head into his exposed face, the mask bruising her own nose but the impact did far more to her brother’s face. Blood streamed down his face and his grip relaxed on her weapon, the knightess taking her chance and ripping both weapons free from his grip.  As he staggered back, Jenessa kicked his feet out from under him and sent him flat on his back.She set her foot on his chest, angling her weapon so that it hovered over his throat. Thats when she got a good look at the damage she had done to his face from her improvised attack.  His nose was clearly broken, his face covered in blood and it looked as though she had cracked a tooth or two. He glared up at her, his teeth stained red as he growled in defiance. She was almost impressed by his display. Almost being a key word there.  “So father wants my blood and he wants Verit?” She inquired, pushing a bit on her blade to prick his throat. The red ran down and he saw the fear flash in his eyes. Unlike her, he was merely a human and didn’t have that will needed to keep going.  “So what if I tell you what he has in store for you? He’s coming here and nobody is going to stop him.” Marcus declared, his voice steady despite the fear in his voice. His eyes flicked towards the stumbling Hollows, the creatures strangely keeping their distance from Jenessa and him.  “Well then, Father best get up here because he’s about to have one less child.”  “Jen-”  The sound was cut off with the wound sound of splitting flesh, the black blade piercing his throat with ease. She watched with cold detachment as the red began to flow outwards, his eyes suddenly so fearful and pleading as his hand clenched on her boot. Jenessa felt his stomach contort a bit but she knew that he was far too dangerous to leave alive.  Her hand pulled the blade free and she knelt down as the light began to fade from his eyes. Her stab had been careful, not severing his windpipe but merely piercing the neck. Her Dark Hand surged to life and she seized his chin and forced his mouth open, the knightess placing her lips against his and pulling the innate humanity forcibly from his dying body. His hands pushed weakly at her, the knightess holding him down easily as she coaxed every scrap of soul and humanity the man who had been her brother had within him.  He had treated her like nothing and so she in turn, took everything he had.  His life. His pride. His very soul.  It was hers. 

[jenessa-mercier]

Continuing the Hunt [drabble]

The bootsteps were unhurried, the sound of scraping metal upon stone as another pair came sprinting past. A low chuckle came from one, low and as foreboding as a thundercloud. There was a grunt of exertion and the sounds of steel impacting steel, the ringing metal echoing faintly through the Parish.  Jenessa's violet eyes were narrowed behind her bone mask, her teeth bared in a feral grin as her strength matched her brother's force on her blade. His own blue eyes were barely visible behind his visor, the broadsword in his hand keeping their weapons locked. The strength behind their exertion was considerable but neither was straining to push the other back.  Motionless and waiting for the other to move first is how they remained for a few minutes before Marcus shoved back, sliding to the right and her free arm. His blade came up in a cross slash at her elbow, forcing the knightess to backpedal as she swung her blade in a circle to deflect the blow. Keeping the distance between them, Jenessa kept the bloodred steel angled at him as he positioned his back at the setting sun. The glare was in her eyes but she forced herself to bear it as she slowly backed away from his raised shield. "Still an amatuer..." He muttered at her, his armor jangling slightly as he chanced a stab at her. It missed her by a wide margin and Jenessa used her longer reach to stab for his face as he  recovered, the Chaos steel gouging a furrow in his helm. Marcus jerked away from the steel and shoved it away with his shield arm, leaving himself open for a moment. As he pushed her blade away from him, Marcus had let his blade drop to his side. Jenessa was already past the reach of the tip of his sword as her fist came and smashed into his stomach. The chainmail would protect from slashes and cuts but it didn't protect much from a raw blow of strength. Marcus reeled back and shoved her away from him, wheezing and lifting his shield instinctively as she regained her balance.  A glance at the sun and Jenessa grinned again, taking a step back as the shadows grew longer. Their embrace was subtle but quick, the buildings becoming enveloped in a swathe of dark as the disc of light sank fully under the horizon. Her armor, black and without shine was practically invisible in the dark as his own steel metal easily reflected the beams of the rising moon.  "Time is not on your side, Marcus..." Jenessa taunted, her voice seeming to radiate from behind him. He whirled and raised her shield, looking around himself desperately. Marcus may as well have been blindfolded at this point. ..

[jenessa-mercier]

300 Followers

WHAT DO I EVEN DO TO CELEBRATE THIS EVENT?

[jenessa-mercier]

So is this what they call a Heart-Warming Reunion? [Drabble]

Crimson steel. To see a metal of such color spoke of two things: a weapon stained with the lifeblood of a kill or something inherently chaotic in nature. For the vengeful knightess who roamed the untamed and fiercely dead grounds of Lordran, it often spoke of both as she continued her hunts, signs of her passing often left as earless corpses slashed from shoulder to hip on the lightly armored, scorched corpses of the heavily prepared and mere bloodstains of those who dared come into her world.  A paused step in the Burg, the rotten wood plank underfoot snapping in half against the worn stone. Her head tilted to the side as the sound of approahing footsteps from behind her drew her attention. A smooth motion and the Chaos Blade was drawn from the shoulder, its iridescent steel flicking from a pale red to a deep crimson in the fading light. The setting sun on the figure made it hard to discern the identity of the intruder but they were familiar enough... A smile played across her lips, elongated canines flashing with mirth in the dying light of the false sun. A mask devoid of true mirth but one rather filled with the cold confidence of a self assured wolf about to dine on its prey.  "I was wondering when you would show yourself... brother." Her voice is soft and yet carries the confidence she fought to attain. Gaze and tone are empty, carrying the fury born of years of resentment of abuse. "You didn't make it easy, Jen." Her brother chuckled, stepping left with his sword held at his side. The movement kept him out of her reach and allowed him to reach the landing that led up to the bonfire; a wise tactic, she noted. Not that the self-proclaimed knightess had any intention of fleeing her brother.  "Father has been so angry that you managed to get Verit back out of Thorolund, even after being slain and sent miles away. An impressive accomplishment, I must say." "But he's a tad impatient, isn't he?" Jenessa quipped, moving in the opposite direction and keeping her gaze leveled at him. The stark contrast in their armor was apparent. While Jenessa's armor bore the scars of several dozen conflicts, Marcus' was merely marred with a light sheen of dust as if he had not fought a single person since arriving.  "Tell me, brother: how does it feel to be so far from home? To be so far from readily available help and being able to hide behind father when things become troublesome?" Jenessa paused her pacing and shifted in the other direction, forcing her sibling to change direction.  "Like you're one to talk to me about cowardice. You never once bested me in swordplay anyway. You always were weak without Sergious there to patch up your wounds when you got your little cuts. Poor little Jenny, so far from help and without her precious big brother." He mocked, taking a step towards her and laughing as she instinctively took a step back. "How many firsts did I take from you, little sister? Your first defeat, your first scar, your first sword... your first laying..." Jenessa felt her teeth grit together in fury at the mention of that night years ago when her brother had forced his way into her room in a drunken stupor and taken her in her own bed in the room besides Verit's. It had been her driving force behind her fury and to never rely on the strength of herself.  "You're wrong on that last one, actually." Jenessa replied, her breathing heavy as she struggled to regain control over herself. Fingers tightened on the worn leather in her hand, the material beginning to squeal in protest as the pressure increased.  "Oh? Are you making up some fantasy that somebody bedded you before your sixteenth birthday?"  "No fantasy, Marcus." Raising her violet eyes to meet his green ones, she forced herself to take a deep breath. "His name was Aeon and he was from the East, traveling with a group of traders as a guard. He had brown hair cut short and a scar upon his lip... And that was the first time I directly disobeyed Father and snuck out to visit with him."  "What do I care about some Eastern trash you bedded?" Marcus mocked, this time looking more irritated as she continued on her story, ignoring her sibling completely. "Doesn't change the fact of what I did to you."  "No, it doesn't." Jenessa replied, raising her gaze and her weapon to the man she used to call brother. "And I know you don't feel any sort of guilt or remorse. So tell me brother, what is your plan here?"  "What?"  "I'm Undead, remember?" Her grin was back as she took a step forward, black Abyss energy emanating from her hand. This time, she was pleased to see him take a step back, his blade coming up in a defensive stance. "So even if you kill me right now... you are in my hunting ground... This is my home now..." 

"And you, Marcus..." Her hand tightened on the hilt as she raised her hood, her smile barely on this side of madness as the bone mask clicked onto her face.  "You are prey."  "Run, little rabbit..."  "R̬̥u͍n̦̱̘.͈͕̰͚.̝̜̝̦̣.̥̼͖̹" ̮̱

[jenessa-mercier]

Tagged by Aven-of-Astora

Hmm... if I absolutely had to pick... Izanagi and Izanami. The stories behind them are both incredible and their subsequent turning upon each other is sad and it makes me feel as though the beings of myth are actually people instead of just images. 

2) In Dark Souls, sacrifice, suffering, and adversity are prevalent. But conversely, so are the themes of martyrdom and eventual triumph. Are there themes in literature (or any form of media, for that matter) that resonate with you regardless of a story’s setting or pretense?

The unwillingness to give up despite everything that is against our main character is something I've always admired. 

3) Can you provide a detailed headcanon concerning your characters homeland/place of origin? If not, any headcanon pertaining to your character will do.

Thorolund is corrupt beyond repair. I believe that the houses are infected with people who have false faith, merely seeing miracles as tools than any kind of divine creation. 

4) Dragons. Yay or nay?

Is this even a question? Dragons and wyverns for life.

5) Do you enjoy games where ethical choices are presented in black and white? (i.e Mass Effect) Or is moral ambiguity right up your alley? I don't really care for games that have black and white situations. The world is not black and white so our choices should not be as well.

6) Have you ever had a piece of media that you simply could not find fault with personally, even if everyone else said otherwise?

I tend to be the first one to hate absolutely everything so this has not yet occurred. The only thing I can think of is V for Vendetta which I adore as a movie.

7) Is the ending paramount? The ending is not the most important. It is merely a journey.

8) What is one trait that you and your muse both share? Explosive tempers when pushed too far.

9) Does the mun have a faceclaim? If so, why did you select said faceclaim? (Something more than just physical resemblance, preferably!) I haven't had one in awhile but I've been considering using Dio because he fits my attitude fairly well.

10) Would you prefer an ending that ends on an exceedingly happy or tragic note, or one that is more ambivalent and bittersweet? There are no happy endings. Only the illusion of one that ends up consoling the reader for a time.

11) Which do you value more: Freedom, or Order?

Freedom does not exist, or at least true freedom does not. Order already exists but is corrupt in places, poisoning the rest. I value order over freedom because people who often desire freedom are best served in a specific role.

[jenessa-mercier]

"A Darkmoon is blue, my blade is red... If you cross swords with me, you'll end up dead..."

Jenessa Mercier

[naristhewilder]

(Well fuck I'm lost which route we taking?)