Bottle-blooded.
Oct 2, 2009 2:52:04 GMT
Post by Deleted on Oct 2, 2009 2:52:04 GMT
In an effort to make my first bottle cutting experience seem more impressive I decided to talk about it in dramatic style! ^_^
The storm had just arrived. Angry thunder roared outside heralding the devistation to come. I sat in silence before the soft glow of my monitor browsing through the many interesting and occasionally humorous accounts of the triumphs and humiliations wrought by my distant sword-brethren upon small, unsuspecting inanimate objects with their tools of the trade. Up until this night I had only preformed tamishigiri, the art of cutting, on the small cane grove behind my house that I had planted long ago for just this sole purpose. Lately, however, the itch had begun within me to try my craft on other items and this night, this terrible, dark night, that itch demanded to be scratched. I stood, and scoured my abode for empty, discarded bottles and dug through my cold storage in hopes of discovering a jug of rancid milk that I could dispose of... one bottle. One lonely, small used bottle was all I could discover. That simply would not do. Two more flavored water bottles were located, full, but their contents soon found the drain of my bathroom sink and after the removal of their paper labels, they were filled and prepared.
Next came the not-so-easy task of choosing my blade and after careful consideration I hefted my favored cutter, my Bugei Wave Katana. It had been a while. The sword felt heavier than I recalled, but I assured myself that it was merely the anticipation of my first bottle cut that weighed it down. The tools for the nights events were almost assembled. All that remained was something to sit the bottles on. A stable platform to act as the gallows for the undeserving condemned. Alas all that I could find was my foldable artist's easel After finagling the contraption into a rough tripod with a flat surface about three inches square I exited out into the pitch black night and prepared my first target.
The rain had just begun to fall. Light drops that sang along my bare blade as I struggled in the darkness to see the bottle. Flashes of lighting being my only illumination, I judged the position of the target and struck. I had expected, having watched many moving imagery of bottle cutting to simply bat the small target across my patio perhaps nicking it or denting it, but with little other effect, but perhaps my technique was better than I had imagined, or maybe still it was the sheer quality of my beloved blade compensating for my flaws, but the bottle seperated itself effortlessly, and again, and again. Soon all three of the innocent prey were slain; sacrificed to slake the thirst of a man eager to grow in skill.
It was still pitch black as I slid my blade across a dry cotton cloth and returned it to its place of rest at my side. It took a moment longer using the momentary light of the skyward arcs of power to locateall of the pieces of my brief rampage, but below are the results. Trophies of my first plasticine kills. I have been blooded. I thirst now for more substantial prey...
LOL Thanks for putting up with that cheesy bit of over-dramitization I had a lot of fun even though I only had 3 bottles. How did I do?
The storm had just arrived. Angry thunder roared outside heralding the devistation to come. I sat in silence before the soft glow of my monitor browsing through the many interesting and occasionally humorous accounts of the triumphs and humiliations wrought by my distant sword-brethren upon small, unsuspecting inanimate objects with their tools of the trade. Up until this night I had only preformed tamishigiri, the art of cutting, on the small cane grove behind my house that I had planted long ago for just this sole purpose. Lately, however, the itch had begun within me to try my craft on other items and this night, this terrible, dark night, that itch demanded to be scratched. I stood, and scoured my abode for empty, discarded bottles and dug through my cold storage in hopes of discovering a jug of rancid milk that I could dispose of... one bottle. One lonely, small used bottle was all I could discover. That simply would not do. Two more flavored water bottles were located, full, but their contents soon found the drain of my bathroom sink and after the removal of their paper labels, they were filled and prepared.
Next came the not-so-easy task of choosing my blade and after careful consideration I hefted my favored cutter, my Bugei Wave Katana. It had been a while. The sword felt heavier than I recalled, but I assured myself that it was merely the anticipation of my first bottle cut that weighed it down. The tools for the nights events were almost assembled. All that remained was something to sit the bottles on. A stable platform to act as the gallows for the undeserving condemned. Alas all that I could find was my foldable artist's easel After finagling the contraption into a rough tripod with a flat surface about three inches square I exited out into the pitch black night and prepared my first target.
The rain had just begun to fall. Light drops that sang along my bare blade as I struggled in the darkness to see the bottle. Flashes of lighting being my only illumination, I judged the position of the target and struck. I had expected, having watched many moving imagery of bottle cutting to simply bat the small target across my patio perhaps nicking it or denting it, but with little other effect, but perhaps my technique was better than I had imagined, or maybe still it was the sheer quality of my beloved blade compensating for my flaws, but the bottle seperated itself effortlessly, and again, and again. Soon all three of the innocent prey were slain; sacrificed to slake the thirst of a man eager to grow in skill.
It was still pitch black as I slid my blade across a dry cotton cloth and returned it to its place of rest at my side. It took a moment longer using the momentary light of the skyward arcs of power to locateall of the pieces of my brief rampage, but below are the results. Trophies of my first plasticine kills. I have been blooded. I thirst now for more substantial prey...
LOL Thanks for putting up with that cheesy bit of over-dramitization I had a lot of fun even though I only had 3 bottles. How did I do?