Disclaimer: I don't own and never will.
AN: This drabble was inspired when I watched (on youtube. I've never managed to get this to work in game) the critical finish for Tira in Soul Calibur IV.
Tira looked down at the corpse of her recently slain foe and licked her lips. She could still taste it there, the taste of fresh death, of the soul she had drained from the body.
She paused for a moment, feeling the taste of soul. All that person was, all that they could have been, all there. Every soul tasted different and this latest one was no different. There was the taste of hours of training naturally, sweat and blood and hours of work. Then there was the taste of sex. This enemy had bedded more than his share of lovers, one as recently as the previous night no less. Shesmirked as she looked down at the corpse.
"You really should have had more sleep. Or prepared a bit more. Maybe that would have kept you alive," she chided in a sing-song voice, before cackling. "Oh who am I kidding? Of course it wouldn't!"
There was the taste of manly pride, of hatred for the cursed sword and a desire to prove themselves as stronger than their enemies. Men made this mistake a lot, thinking strength was more important than technique.
But there were other tastes as well. Regrets for paths not taken, a child's laughter from far away. A summer breeze and parents long gone. A girl who was important once upon a time, they were all there.
Tira looked down at her fallen foe and smiled. No wonder Soul Edge loved souls so, with their rich and varied tastes. With a hope and a skip, Tira skipped off to find more souls.