Gram was so offended by Tikki's actions that he didn't even say a word. He had no idea what to say. The weapon was dumbstruck by the actions of this ignorant and cruel woman. She had the nerve to shove him further into the dirt when he protested, and then couldn't be bothered to clean him before shoving the weapon back into its scabbard, a place it was thoroughly tired of. But now it was dirty on top of that. Surtr silently admitted to itself that if it possessed eyes, it would be crying right now. Never in its worst nightmares had someone like this occurred to him. Shocked, appalled, and wounded deeply, the blade shifted in its sheath, projecting a mass illusion with all the power it could muster. Anyone in sight of thing thing would assume it was a near-broken, rusted-through piece of junk that might once had seen glory, but no more.

That wasn't the truth, of course, but it would seem like it until he found someone to care for him. But then, while he was busy being offended, Gram heard the woman who had found him whisper. Apparently she wanted him to be quiet. He was not about to roll with that. "[i]Kill.[/i]" he stated simply. The projection would sound like someone speaking normally to anyone in hearing distance. Just one word, in a calm, bloodthirsty tone. The weapon began to repeat that word with regularity. Every minute or so, give or take a minute, he'd say it again, "[i]Kill![/i]" sometimes the weapon said it louder, sometimes a little quieter, but always in that same, calm, psychotic tone. And he would not stop until he killed someone, or Tikki apologized, and cleaned up the horrid mess she had made. And if someone rescued it from this new prison, Nothung would be happy to calm down. However someone [i]would[/i] be doing some cleaning, as he was not capable of it...