Monday, June 17, 2013


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10:01


Fetishes

I am Jordan of House Robledal, whose words are “Ne dismetiĝos plu, ne disligiĝos plu”.
            Unbound, unbroken.
            I am the first oak of the grove, and like all things in nature, I arrived here at the mercy of random butterfly effects. And I will grow with many branches, complexities, and idiosyncrasies.
            One day, I’ll hew this down into something more concise. But here I try to define what I am, and what I will make my House to be:

 
I am the Oak:

            Its leaves crown the covers of generals and admirals. It has been a symbol of strength and solidarity since antiquity. It represents the best of nations, peoples, gods, and my ancestors. Its roots run deep; its branches reach tall. Its leaves shelter all; its bark shields all. It breathes calm and silence, made of Terra’s blood and trapped lightning. It heralds the elements, and worships them as much as it represents them as fuel for fire, drinker of water, an exhale of air, and life of earth.

I am a shaman. I am nature. I am strength. I am eternal.
            I am the essence of being, when all other things continue to change around me.

 
I am the Tiger:

            She is the queen of the jungle. Her coat is the most prized. Her camouflage the most distinguishable and yet successful. Her mythos the most riveting. Her bulk monstrous and glorious. Her gaze is primal and commanding. And despite favoritism for other cats, in reality she is the undisputed conqueror of all her peers and prey alike. She is the mount of gods, symbol of warriors and nobility, an icon of sweet images, and yet paragon of predators.

I am adorable. I am affectionate. I am agility. I am the hunt.
            I am the fanged smile, the thrill of the chase and kill.

 
I am the Twin Bears:

            They are divine intervention. Where one is insurmountable strength, courage, and vitality, what is two if not heaven sent? They are the spirits of the passed braves. They are the keepers of great powers, shared with man only in dance and great strife. They are brought together to fight the enemies of the clans. They are plush, fuzzy, and cuddly. They are man eaters. They are gods in their own right. When they sleep, their souls are freed. They represent my other ancestors. They do not acquiesce; they do not understand fear. They fight to the death, not knowing they can die. When they stand together, they are unconquerable.

I am bushido. I am intimidation. I am mother. I am unavoidable.
            I am manifest strength in purpose; a force of nature.


I am the Lone Wolf:

            He is the content wanderer. His blood knows the meaning of the pack, and he integrates well in groups, where he knows his place and serves his purpose. But his personality goes against this, either due to nurture or nature. He can follow, but he is his own Alpha. He can lead, but he is his own pack. He can sleep anywhere, but he does not settle. He yields when appropriate, but he does not retreat. He enjoys the pack, but he does not depend. He accepts and submits to love, but he is not bound. He is the keeper of the trails, and the tip of exploration. He is satisfied with wanderlust.

I am of the pack. I am of the path. I am of the wilderness. I am alone.
            I am the feral boy at the gates, one paw out toward the journey.


I am the Tortoise:

            She is the fortress of wisdom, longevity, and tranquility. She moves steadily, an anecdote to the fast paced creatures and world around her. Revisited unchanged, unaffected, and ever weighed by her rumination with the universe. She is shrouded in the mists of the undergrowth, and both beneath and within her is the black water of the void from which all things came. Upon her back she carries the world. Within her eyes, the clarity of timeless age. Across her shell are the oracles’ words, written in a language of painted color.

I am patience. I am sovereign. I am subtlety. I am abyssal.
            I am a cache of treasure, encased in an impenetrable shell.

 
I am the Dragon:

            It is the epitome of mythical. It is the force of great evil and great virtue. It is the sea. It is the sky. It is the earth. It is the fire. It is the quintessence of power. It takes without shame. It dreams with impunity. It speaks with absolution. It burns without mercy. It is the unrealness of imagination and pure emotion. It is the most glorious of all beasts; it does not exist and thus it is the most of what any one person desires it to be. That is the reality of honesty in its primal, visceral desire. And it will not be ruled.

I am gluttony. I am lust. I am greed. I am pride
            I am the raging omnipotence of emotion, trapped in the frailness of mortality.
 

I am the Scorpion:

            He is the darkest shadow of the soul. He is the still water that runs deepest. He is the abyss that stares back into you. He is hidden lethality. He is exciting threat. He is more scared of you than you are of him; his remorse is as great as his poison is unforgiving. He respects the death he carries in his blood. He sheds death and is reborn anew, and his molt he devours in merciless introspection. He does not abandon his sin; he envelopes it in repeated cycles. He is gravity; seriousness; extremity.

I am sex. I am hatred. I am fear. I am revolution.
            I am the moment of tantricity, between life and death.


I am predator, I am ethereal, I am hope, I am tantamount, I am alive.

My sigil is the sephiroth of Entropy; my standard a Manticore against it, not opposing- the chimera of six fetishes. I don’t know what these words mean in tradition; I know what they mean to me.

            We will never again be brought asunder; we will never again be bound.
            I am Unbound. I am Unbroken.

12:23

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