You could say I’m a hunter of inspiration; it is always in demand.
[ It’s here in the bustle of an alien city pub, in the liquor that trembles under its own surface tension. It’s in the play of the light, the way it diffracts through the glass to paint Bansai’s fingers in crystal technicolour when he takes the vessel in hand to lift it like a toast; to swords, and the stink of blood, sweat, and liquor.
Rather than drink it, Bansai merely holds it, his head tipping so slightly forward and to the side as his other hand comes up to nudge his headphones just slightly off of one ear. By his posture, one might think he’s closed his eyes to listen, but beneath unflappable shades they remain wide open and fixed on the swordsman before him. ]
It’s a powerful beat, full of energy and confidence. It’s like the humming songs samurai would sing to themselves as they readied themselves to die. It’s like a drinking ditty.
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[ It’s here in the bustle of an alien city pub, in the liquor that trembles under its own surface tension. It’s in the play of the light, the way it diffracts through the glass to paint Bansai’s fingers in crystal technicolour when he takes the vessel in hand to lift it like a toast; to swords, and the stink of blood, sweat, and liquor.
Rather than drink it, Bansai merely holds it, his head tipping so slightly forward and to the side as his other hand comes up to nudge his headphones just slightly off of one ear. By his posture, one might think he’s closed his eyes to listen, but beneath unflappable shades they remain wide open and fixed on the swordsman before him. ]
It’s a powerful beat, full of energy and confidence. It’s like the humming songs samurai would sing to themselves as they readied themselves to die. It’s like a drinking ditty.