09-03-2008, 12:48 AM
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_____Aside from pulling a wagon of various liquors back to the camp site, Laurel had taken interest in lifting various instruments. Partially out of his own interest to play them, partially out of interest to see what he could pawn off to the others, but something needed to pick up the mood of the place. Far too many nights had gone by since he had even laid a finger on his own instrument of choice, but that wasn't to say that the previous nights hadn't been exciting in their own way. If he wasn't dealing with crazies crawling out of the woodwork, it was something along the lines of blissfully drinking himself to sleep. Any length of time he didn't have to hear the voices, cries, and screams of the sick, he was fine.
_____Pulling the blue tarp off of the wagon after he had set his banjo to the side, he rummaged around in the old wagon momentarily. It wasn't really a bottomless pit by any stretch, but it had been adequate enough to drag back an oboe (which needed a reed much to his misfortune), a viola and a violin (of which Laurel couldn't tell the difference in other than size), the accordion he had left sitting in a warehouse some time ago, a tambourine, and a harmonica that had decided to hide itself underneath the tambourine. It was the harmonica he was interested in, having seem them in action before, but it only ended up in his pocket for now.
_____Aside from pulling a wagon of various liquors back to the camp site, Laurel had taken interest in lifting various instruments. Partially out of his own interest to play them, partially out of interest to see what he could pawn off to the others, but something needed to pick up the mood of the place. Far too many nights had gone by since he had even laid a finger on his own instrument of choice, but that wasn't to say that the previous nights hadn't been exciting in their own way. If he wasn't dealing with crazies crawling out of the woodwork, it was something along the lines of blissfully drinking himself to sleep. Any length of time he didn't have to hear the voices, cries, and screams of the sick, he was fine.
_____Pulling the blue tarp off of the wagon after he had set his banjo to the side, he rummaged around in the old wagon momentarily. It wasn't really a bottomless pit by any stretch, but it had been adequate enough to drag back an oboe (which needed a reed much to his misfortune), a viola and a violin (of which Laurel couldn't tell the difference in other than size), the accordion he had left sitting in a warehouse some time ago, a tambourine, and a harmonica that had decided to hide itself underneath the tambourine. It was the harmonica he was interested in, having seem them in action before, but it only ended up in his pocket for now.