Home is where the heart is, or so they say. I could believe it, every time I get back to the village there's this sense of unburdening. Like a huge pile of weights being lifted off your shoulders. However this feeling can sometimes be temporary. When you do the kind of jobs we shinobi do, the kind of jobs I do, the line between man and monster becomes blurred. So I drink to the memories, and I drink to those whose memories I've forever taken and for those whose futures I've forever foreclosed.
The white haired man tilted his head back gulping down the harsh liquid. A mixture of gin and rum, it was bitter and it burned. However this was what he enjoyed the sensation of pain to remind him that he was still a man. Do not mistake, he was no masochist in fact Yoshimitsu detested unnecessary harm. However it was the little things that could make a difference in perception. While he internalized the meaning of this feeling, the shinobi would tilt his head and look around the room. The open restaurant was a bit empty but the great thing was being able to see people walk by without the restraints of windows or doors. No a simply curtain over a walk away to give you some form of privacy but even then you could still see their torsos and lower half. There was a certain allure to not knowing who was walking by, a strange social comfort not worrying about who was outside but still being relieved to have other people near by. Sometimes you could catch what they were saying and guess what kind of people they were.
"Did you see that play? It was pretty cool right? The puppets were amazing! a high pitch excited voice said.
Another moment passed by...
"She was so hot man, I mean the rack on her!" A pig, clearly swine made up some percentage of the population.
Few minutes...
"She wouldn't dare make a move on me. She knows far better." A strong feminine voice spoke, mystery covering her meaning.
This could be repeated over and over again, a hidden social contract. Another small thing to pass the time and make you appreciate or judge human thoughts.
Yoshimitsu raised his hand, he was signaling for the owner to come by.
"What'll be sir?"
"Another glass, make it a double this time."
"What's this your sixth one son? What are you trying to forget?" A smile spread across the old man's lips.
A smirk crept across Yoshimitsu's and with his eyes half closed and his finger pointed at his head, he said "I'm not trying to forget, I'm trying to hold the memories here."
It was odd, it seemed like while most people tried to forget by drinking he had the opposite effect. No matter what you couldn't forget the pain you caused. As a shinobi you had to erase the feeling during action, if you did not you were inept, unsuited for your job and regarded as worthless. However after the monster mask is removed and you have to put back on your human face, what do you do? The alcohol reminded him that he was human . Then colliding thoughts about what he has done makes their way to the forefront. He could not change the past, nor would he, but it was important to recognize your path. If you didn't take the time to do such, you were just going to end up being a mindless killer.
"Another one to those I've left behind, or those put down. May your soul rest easy."
Just another son of Raiden trying to get by.
[MFT]
Physical:
-Black Robes
-White/Silver Hair
-Gray/Teal Eyes (Byakugan)
The white haired man tilted his head back gulping down the harsh liquid. A mixture of gin and rum, it was bitter and it burned. However this was what he enjoyed the sensation of pain to remind him that he was still a man. Do not mistake, he was no masochist in fact Yoshimitsu detested unnecessary harm. However it was the little things that could make a difference in perception. While he internalized the meaning of this feeling, the shinobi would tilt his head and look around the room. The open restaurant was a bit empty but the great thing was being able to see people walk by without the restraints of windows or doors. No a simply curtain over a walk away to give you some form of privacy but even then you could still see their torsos and lower half. There was a certain allure to not knowing who was walking by, a strange social comfort not worrying about who was outside but still being relieved to have other people near by. Sometimes you could catch what they were saying and guess what kind of people they were.
"Did you see that play? It was pretty cool right? The puppets were amazing! a high pitch excited voice said.
Another moment passed by...
"She was so hot man, I mean the rack on her!" A pig, clearly swine made up some percentage of the population.
Few minutes...
"She wouldn't dare make a move on me. She knows far better." A strong feminine voice spoke, mystery covering her meaning.
This could be repeated over and over again, a hidden social contract. Another small thing to pass the time and make you appreciate or judge human thoughts.
Yoshimitsu raised his hand, he was signaling for the owner to come by.
"What'll be sir?"
"Another glass, make it a double this time."
"What's this your sixth one son? What are you trying to forget?" A smile spread across the old man's lips.
A smirk crept across Yoshimitsu's and with his eyes half closed and his finger pointed at his head, he said "I'm not trying to forget, I'm trying to hold the memories here."
It was odd, it seemed like while most people tried to forget by drinking he had the opposite effect. No matter what you couldn't forget the pain you caused. As a shinobi you had to erase the feeling during action, if you did not you were inept, unsuited for your job and regarded as worthless. However after the monster mask is removed and you have to put back on your human face, what do you do? The alcohol reminded him that he was human . Then colliding thoughts about what he has done makes their way to the forefront. He could not change the past, nor would he, but it was important to recognize your path. If you didn't take the time to do such, you were just going to end up being a mindless killer.
"Another one to those I've left behind, or those put down. May your soul rest easy."
Just another son of Raiden trying to get by.
[MFT]
Physical:
-Black Robes
-White/Silver Hair
-Gray/Teal Eyes (Byakugan)