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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@takeshi-xiv
It’s still there, you know, that valiant courage that once raged so vibrantly. You may have forgotten it, but We see it shadowed there, just on the other side of your heart. Just as we see the bloodstains and hear the screaming. We know you will never forget them, We see how you wear their scars. So come closer to Us and We will give you purpose, We will restore you to your place amongst warriors. Let Us embrace you. Let Us be your saving grace.
Takeshi waits impatiently for the tavern wench to fill his gourd anew. With every passing second he grows more tense. The gourd is the only thing of his homeland left to him and worth its weight in gold to the drunk. He taps his fingers anxiously on his table, long nails clicking away without rhythm. His is a disheveled appearance; he is a mess that has long since lost reason to care. Jet black hair, once held back by a disciplined knot, now hangs loose, greasy strands obscuring the edges of his vision. He is filthy; baths having at some point become a luxury to the wandering drunk. Sometimes he boasted his shirt had collected grime from every corner of Eorzea.
Given the chance he would have filled the gourd himself, but a quick glance to the brawny Hellsguard by the bar confirms he is still not allowed near it.
Takeshi smiles. The Roegadyn groans, crossing his arms and flaring his nostrils wide with menace.
Takeshi’s eyes dart away from the muscle and across the establishment, one foot tapping away at the cobblestone floor while he distracts himself eyeing the assorted patrons.
Despite or because of his restlessness the wench’s approach goes unnoticed initially. When he spots her at last, he reaches up and takes his gourd back without a word. He doesn’t wait to imbibe greedily, and brusquely; cheap ale streaking down scruffy beard and chin. A newfound boorishness courtesy of his addiction.
“It’s still there, you know, that valiant courage that once raged so vibrantly. You may have forgotten it, but We see it shadowed there, just on the other side of your heart.”
Takeshi leans back, narrowing his eyes on his gourd, before looking up and raising his voice at the departing wench. “What… what’s in this ale again?” He wipes his mouth with the cuff of his shirt, ready to dismiss the whisper as a trick of mind and drug as the wench assures him there’s nothing special to the cheap ale. Then the eerie voice returns. Louder. Stronger. Darker.
“Just as we see the bloodstains and hear the screaming. We know you will never forget them, We see how you wear their scars.“
Takeshi’s typically jovial features become dour and foul.His mind goes to his countrymen, to the lives lost in Doma’s name, and the ones he’d taken. He looks desperately to every corner of the tavern; seeking the source of that wicked influence to no avail. In a desperate bid to free himself of its whispers he finds his pearl and flings it across the tavern to the bewilderment of its patrons. His chest rose with shallow breathes, ignoring the the astonished gasps at the sound of shattering gem.“What is wrong with me, am I not master of my own mind,” he winces, looking down at calloused, battle-worn hands.
“So come closer to Us and We will give you purpose, We will restore you to your place amongst warriors. Let Us embrace you. Let Us be your saving grace.“
Another whisper filled his mind like a siren’s song. Purpose. A place amongst warriors. A new master to serve. A cause to give his life meaning once more. The promises were undeniably appealing.He recognizes then how those in the tavern see him; a doman fool. For the first time in many moons it bothers him. Shame sinks down to his gut and sits heavy. He gulps, unable to meet their judging gazes, leveling his eyes instead to the cobblestone floor. His features crumple with sorrow and contempt for what he’s become.He loses himself in the indignity he has ignored and drowned with drink since his departure from his homeland, but something inside him fights back. He steels himself, rekindling his resolve, unwilling to bend the knee and pledge himself to a Lord without honor.“I have served a dark master before. I will not do so again.”
Mention: @the-faceless-ffxiv, Art: @sonataofsteel
Food? Ahhhhh! It’s food! Food!
AT THE END OF INFINITY
The 21 precepts of Dokkodo
Dokkodo (獨行道), the “Way of Walking Alone” or the “Path of Aloneness”, was written by Miyamoto Musashi before his death. In it, he listed 21 precepts or ideas. These are rules that are so simple and yet to complex at the same time. Think about them.
Accept everything just the way it is.
Do not seek pleasure for its own sake.
Do not, under any circumstances, depend on a partial feeling.
Think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world.
Be detached from desire your whole life long.
Do not regret what you have done.
Never be jealous.
Never let yourself be saddened by a separation.
Resentment and complaint are appropriate neither for oneself or others.
Do not let yourself be guided by the feeling of lust or love.
In all things have no preferences.
Be indifferent to where you live.
Do not pursue the taste of good food.
Do not hold on to possessions you no longer need.
Do not act following customary beliefs.
Do not collect weapons or practice with weapons beyond what is useful.
Do not fear death.
Do not seek to possess either goods or fiefs for your old age.
Respect Buddha and the gods without counting on their help.
You may abandon your own body but you must preserve your honour.
Never stray from the Way.
Anger. Control your anger. If you hold anger toward others, they have control over you. Your opponent can dominate and defeat you if you allow him to get you irritated.
Miyamoto Musashi (via mmarelated)
Takehiko Inoue
Reminds me of Sword of the Stranger.
“Truth is not what you want it to be; it is what it is, and you must bend to its power or live a lie.”
— Miyamoto Musashi ~ The Book of Five Rings
h/t @manwithoutborders Shaped by Karate