A tale of my imaginations and swords
So sometimes when I listen to music or just get into a haze, I start thinking of random vignettes my original character (Tocky Myconido, for those who don't know) would witness. All four sides of him. And I realize that a quote I once heard, which went along the lines of "the imagination is simply a reconstruction of the real world" means a lot more when you realize how much your subconscious dives into your thoughts. So I'm going to take a fragment of what Tocky is, and try to semi-vignette it. As in, explain what I've been noticing trend-wise and apply it to myself.
So Tocky uses a bo staff. Very much against the concept of killing, but will bludgeon something into submission and stylishly at that. I've loved swords all my life and thought about why I hadn't stuck with the idea (it got awarded to Angel Tocky, though that sword's kinda special and non-lethal as well). Then it hit me, with the backstory I had given, to give him a sword he knows not how to use. It all made sense, since my favorite sword-fighting style is Iai-jutsu, a sword drawing technique that emphasizes using the blade only as the killing blow.
This is where we come back to Brandon. I have plenty of actual swords, and I'm not very agile with them. But what metaphor struck me most was my words. I have such SCATHING things to say to certain people sometimes, and the chance will never come up. I have the capacity to be intimidating, but I never hold fast to it. It's as though I walk with a sheathed sword at my side, and everyone initially is put off by it. I come seeming to look for a challenge, or even as a looming threat. When someone approaches me, I never brandish the weapon. I flash a smile and greet them warmly. They see I have a means of protecting myself, and potentially others. But the sword never leaves the sheathe.
Then comes the time when I need to defend myself. The person has drawn their weapon, and approached me in a fashion that sparks a fight-or-flight response. Twice, EVER, in my life have I drawn the sword and frightened a situation into submission. One of those instances shook the room, and was later described as "kinda sexy". But every other time, I look like a fool. I can't maintain any posture, I falter on my words and motions, lose track of where I'm going, and am immediately put down. The duel is over before I can even put my heart into it. I have even tried leaving the sword sheathed. I did not come in with taunts, but the sign that I was not to be trifled was there. Since my opponent was drunk(literally drunk), he kept at me. Metaphorically speaking he egged me on to kill him. Literally speaking, he kept saying "get out of my face unless you want to start something". For the record, I was not in his face, but I found out that day I have no sway against a drunk man too absorbed in his pride.
I want to draw this sword. I want to put in this fight I know I have in me, and hone this skill I only find out later I have. Maybe I need a teacher? Maybe I need another moment of clarity? Right now I just feel like I'm floundering in every conversation I have that requires me to put my foot down or stand up to the situation at hand.
The worst of it is, I know I'm powerful enough. Physically and mentally, I have a rather formidable stature. But my kindness and my reservation always get the better of me. I try not to step on toes, and I do not like shaming people. Had I a means to combat this weakness, I'd probably have an answer to this problem.
But until then, Tocky just has a beautiful gold-etched scabbard with a blade inside ready to go. He just has no means of drawing it.
So Tocky uses a bo staff. Very much against the concept of killing, but will bludgeon something into submission and stylishly at that. I've loved swords all my life and thought about why I hadn't stuck with the idea (it got awarded to Angel Tocky, though that sword's kinda special and non-lethal as well). Then it hit me, with the backstory I had given, to give him a sword he knows not how to use. It all made sense, since my favorite sword-fighting style is Iai-jutsu, a sword drawing technique that emphasizes using the blade only as the killing blow.
This is where we come back to Brandon. I have plenty of actual swords, and I'm not very agile with them. But what metaphor struck me most was my words. I have such SCATHING things to say to certain people sometimes, and the chance will never come up. I have the capacity to be intimidating, but I never hold fast to it. It's as though I walk with a sheathed sword at my side, and everyone initially is put off by it. I come seeming to look for a challenge, or even as a looming threat. When someone approaches me, I never brandish the weapon. I flash a smile and greet them warmly. They see I have a means of protecting myself, and potentially others. But the sword never leaves the sheathe.
Then comes the time when I need to defend myself. The person has drawn their weapon, and approached me in a fashion that sparks a fight-or-flight response. Twice, EVER, in my life have I drawn the sword and frightened a situation into submission. One of those instances shook the room, and was later described as "kinda sexy". But every other time, I look like a fool. I can't maintain any posture, I falter on my words and motions, lose track of where I'm going, and am immediately put down. The duel is over before I can even put my heart into it. I have even tried leaving the sword sheathed. I did not come in with taunts, but the sign that I was not to be trifled was there. Since my opponent was drunk(literally drunk), he kept at me. Metaphorically speaking he egged me on to kill him. Literally speaking, he kept saying "get out of my face unless you want to start something". For the record, I was not in his face, but I found out that day I have no sway against a drunk man too absorbed in his pride.
I want to draw this sword. I want to put in this fight I know I have in me, and hone this skill I only find out later I have. Maybe I need a teacher? Maybe I need another moment of clarity? Right now I just feel like I'm floundering in every conversation I have that requires me to put my foot down or stand up to the situation at hand.
The worst of it is, I know I'm powerful enough. Physically and mentally, I have a rather formidable stature. But my kindness and my reservation always get the better of me. I try not to step on toes, and I do not like shaming people. Had I a means to combat this weakness, I'd probably have an answer to this problem.
But until then, Tocky just has a beautiful gold-etched scabbard with a blade inside ready to go. He just has no means of drawing it.