01-06-2010, 11:58 PM
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@&#&$As territorial howls shot up in the night, under the moon's pale glow and the blanket of stars him and the others would steal off to their smoking spot. Although the adults openly frowned on this kind of behaviour, Anselm ultimately suspected they were no different. In that war-torn wasteland, there was only so much one could do to stay sane. Artificial happiness was a godsend next to nothing. Although later he'd indulge in those kinds of activities alone, he'd never felt vulnerable in that group, even while sufficiently intoxicated. They'd experiment whenever they could get their hands onto anything exotic, and no doubt they were foolish for taking some of those drugs so lightly, but they helped one another home and everyone always made it back in one piece. Even so it was just barely a sociable sort of thing--for the most part they were quiet and reflective. Perhaps each faced a silent struggle--one to push their demons to the back of their mind before turning in--trying to drive away the nightmares at night for those faced during the day were horrible enough.
@&#&$Once he'd left Vermont, he'd taken to only smoking while he was alone. It was different not having the usual crew to watch his back; he felt more prone, more uneasy. He found any psychedelics magnified this effect a thousand fold--in some ways they exacerbated his existing paranoia. He found he read into the details too much, getting caught up on things that were normally trivial and easy to ignore. To top it all off, he found it nearly impossible to communicate effectively; somewhere between his brain and his tongue, the message got mixed up. He couldn't utilise the deliberate gestures and expressions he'd learned over the years, and it got so bad that a simple observation sounded more like an insult by the time it came out. Although it could be a fun experience in the "safety" of his own mind, as soon as another conscious being was introduced into the equation he couldn't help but want out. Before the fire it was easy to find solitude; now it was almost absurd to set out with the expectation he'd run into no one. Needless to say, (especially after the incident with Ryan at the borders), he'd stopped using these things completely.
@&#&$Weed, though, was different--especially when mixed with alcohol he found it to be an amiable activity to share. It had a far less dramatic effect on his psyche and he always found it easy to deal with wolves who were just as fried as he was. Dealing with sober folks could be more distressing, especially if they were wound up about something themselves, but even here the hybrid did not give himself enough credit. Although no stoner would like to deal with some crisis (no matter how minor) while high, in reality he could maintain a level head and think on his feet just as well if the situation were dire enough. It didn't make his brain completely shut down like mushrooms could, and so recently he'd grown more comfortable interacting with others while toasted. Needless to say, he hardly suspected Lolita would suddenly turn on him and lunge for his throat. The thought was just ridiculous. And although she was at an awkward age for him sexually, he found he still enjoyed her company.
@&#&$He took a quick hit and passed the tasty smoke back to her, exhaling half a minute later while nodding slowly as he began to speak. "Yea; I make it down to the city fairly often. Not entirely sure where we could meet up, though," he reflected; he didn't know how much she knew of the omnipresent tension that supposedly existed between their two packs. Usually he reserved his scouting "services" for Inferni, but here he saw no harm; if she was looking for a tour guide, she'd certainly come to the right man. "But we'll figure something out. I've found at least three head shops in the city; one has a better selection than the others. A lot of the bars are getting cleaned out for booze, but you can still find enough in the residential buildings if you look through the cabinets. I'd no idea about this stuff," he said, indicating the bottle, "until just now, really. I'd cite it as a random dumb find more luck than anything, though," he concluded, knowing it was fairly atypical to find anything of this nature out so far in the wilderness.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +753
@&#&$Once he'd left Vermont, he'd taken to only smoking while he was alone. It was different not having the usual crew to watch his back; he felt more prone, more uneasy. He found any psychedelics magnified this effect a thousand fold--in some ways they exacerbated his existing paranoia. He found he read into the details too much, getting caught up on things that were normally trivial and easy to ignore. To top it all off, he found it nearly impossible to communicate effectively; somewhere between his brain and his tongue, the message got mixed up. He couldn't utilise the deliberate gestures and expressions he'd learned over the years, and it got so bad that a simple observation sounded more like an insult by the time it came out. Although it could be a fun experience in the "safety" of his own mind, as soon as another conscious being was introduced into the equation he couldn't help but want out. Before the fire it was easy to find solitude; now it was almost absurd to set out with the expectation he'd run into no one. Needless to say, (especially after the incident with Ryan at the borders), he'd stopped using these things completely.
@&#&$Weed, though, was different--especially when mixed with alcohol he found it to be an amiable activity to share. It had a far less dramatic effect on his psyche and he always found it easy to deal with wolves who were just as fried as he was. Dealing with sober folks could be more distressing, especially if they were wound up about something themselves, but even here the hybrid did not give himself enough credit. Although no stoner would like to deal with some crisis (no matter how minor) while high, in reality he could maintain a level head and think on his feet just as well if the situation were dire enough. It didn't make his brain completely shut down like mushrooms could, and so recently he'd grown more comfortable interacting with others while toasted. Needless to say, he hardly suspected Lolita would suddenly turn on him and lunge for his throat. The thought was just ridiculous. And although she was at an awkward age for him sexually, he found he still enjoyed her company.
@&#&$He took a quick hit and passed the tasty smoke back to her, exhaling half a minute later while nodding slowly as he began to speak. "Yea; I make it down to the city fairly often. Not entirely sure where we could meet up, though," he reflected; he didn't know how much she knew of the omnipresent tension that supposedly existed between their two packs. Usually he reserved his scouting "services" for Inferni, but here he saw no harm; if she was looking for a tour guide, she'd certainly come to the right man. "But we'll figure something out. I've found at least three head shops in the city; one has a better selection than the others. A lot of the bars are getting cleaned out for booze, but you can still find enough in the residential buildings if you look through the cabinets. I'd no idea about this stuff," he said, indicating the bottle, "until just now, really. I'd cite it as a random dumb find more luck than anything, though," he concluded, knowing it was fairly atypical to find anything of this nature out so far in the wilderness.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +753