01-03-2010, 08:51 PM
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@&#&$Anselm's daughter was a free-loving spirit--enthusiastic, intelligent, and kind. Even if she had been hiding somewhere in the garage, the most she would ever do was jump out with a soft boo! before giggling at the looks on their faces and settling down to talk. Although he felt some connection to her every time he entered this garage, she was rarely in his conscious thoughts. It was only then that he'd miss her; it was then that he'd be forced to think of Ryan, too. No matter how much good he did, he'd never be able to omit those few glaring fuck ups from his memory--but the drugs helped.
@&#&$Needless to say, it took little encouragement from the two dogs to start him preparing a bowl for their enjoyment. He selected one of the nicer looking buds from the container; it had more of a frosty white coating than the others, though it remained interspersed with the red-orange hairs that seemed typical of whatever strain he was growing. It was sticky and the tinier pieces would get stuck on the thin fur on his fingers, and every so often he would pause to gingerly pick it out with his dark nails. The little pile continued to grow as he talked.
@&#&$"Yup; I'm looking to expand come spring. Might even get a greenhouse going sooner so I can get a head start, but as I'm sure you've guessed, security is something of an issue and I'm not sure how that will work out." If he started with the poppies he wouldn't have such a huge problem on his hands; the flowers were far less smelly and recognisable. Still, anyone with half a brain to stumble upon an active greenhouse tucked this far away in the city would realise the plants inside were of certain value. "Already had one attempted break-in a couple months ago," he lamented.
@&#&$It was strange that nobody had looted the fields while the buds he picked apart now were growing, but he assumed ignorance had been on his side. This little pocket of decaying suburbia attracted far fewer visitors than the large stores and supply depots found closer to centre city. As word of his trade spread, however, he didn't think he could invest so much faith in chance (much less the good will of those who sought him out in the first place).
@&#&$"Not that I'd mind sticking around here myself; there's a few lakes just outside the neighbourhood and an old reserve for food," he added, brushing his hands together to dislodge the last of the weed flakes, "but sometimes duty calls and I can't be in two places at once." He didn't know how familiar they were with the geography of the area--though Inferni could certainly be further it could also be a lot closer, too. Phoenix Valley wasn't very far at all, and the land those wolves claimed was pretty much adjacent to the city. If he lived there it would be trivial to stop by here every day, even if things were chaotic on the home front.
@&#&$"But such is life, eh?" he wondered rhetorically, just as he completed packing the bowl. He had broken off more than enough to fill it and he left it loosely packed. He would rather smoke two bowls of fluff than bust a lung sucking on compacted plant matter and ash. He took a quick minute to explain the anatomy of the bowl and the lighter to Grit, demonstrating the workings of the latter before placing both objects on the table. He'd let them decide who got the green hit. "So where you two from, anyway?" he finally asked, figuring whoever didn't smoke first could field the question.
@&#&$
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +624
@&#&$Needless to say, it took little encouragement from the two dogs to start him preparing a bowl for their enjoyment. He selected one of the nicer looking buds from the container; it had more of a frosty white coating than the others, though it remained interspersed with the red-orange hairs that seemed typical of whatever strain he was growing. It was sticky and the tinier pieces would get stuck on the thin fur on his fingers, and every so often he would pause to gingerly pick it out with his dark nails. The little pile continued to grow as he talked.
@&#&$"Yup; I'm looking to expand come spring. Might even get a greenhouse going sooner so I can get a head start, but as I'm sure you've guessed, security is something of an issue and I'm not sure how that will work out." If he started with the poppies he wouldn't have such a huge problem on his hands; the flowers were far less smelly and recognisable. Still, anyone with half a brain to stumble upon an active greenhouse tucked this far away in the city would realise the plants inside were of certain value. "Already had one attempted break-in a couple months ago," he lamented.
@&#&$It was strange that nobody had looted the fields while the buds he picked apart now were growing, but he assumed ignorance had been on his side. This little pocket of decaying suburbia attracted far fewer visitors than the large stores and supply depots found closer to centre city. As word of his trade spread, however, he didn't think he could invest so much faith in chance (much less the good will of those who sought him out in the first place).
@&#&$"Not that I'd mind sticking around here myself; there's a few lakes just outside the neighbourhood and an old reserve for food," he added, brushing his hands together to dislodge the last of the weed flakes, "but sometimes duty calls and I can't be in two places at once." He didn't know how familiar they were with the geography of the area--though Inferni could certainly be further it could also be a lot closer, too. Phoenix Valley wasn't very far at all, and the land those wolves claimed was pretty much adjacent to the city. If he lived there it would be trivial to stop by here every day, even if things were chaotic on the home front.
@&#&$"But such is life, eh?" he wondered rhetorically, just as he completed packing the bowl. He had broken off more than enough to fill it and he left it loosely packed. He would rather smoke two bowls of fluff than bust a lung sucking on compacted plant matter and ash. He took a quick minute to explain the anatomy of the bowl and the lighter to Grit, demonstrating the workings of the latter before placing both objects on the table. He'd let them decide who got the green hit. "So where you two from, anyway?" he finally asked, figuring whoever didn't smoke first could field the question.
@&#&$
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +624