Post by Chillum on Aug 14, 2012 1:13:03 GMT -5
One of the disadvantages to living at school: no good places to smoke.
Now, normally the grounds would be a nice place to smoke, except for two issues. One, with the nice weather, the grounds were sure to be full of students, and he didn't want his smoke to irritate anyone else.
Secondly, what he was smoking wasn't completely legal.
True, Spain was lenient. Fines and citations. Still, it was a nuisance.
For a second, a flame lit up the pocket of darkness in the dungeon, illuminating long purple hair and pale blue eyes. It quickly went out, leaving a small orange glow burning in the darkness, which slowly died down. For a few seconds, nothing happened, then there was a brief exhale of breath, and a strange smell wafted into the air.
Chillum, however, had been sitting in the dark long enough for his eyes to adjust. Even without the lighter flame, he could see his lanky legs splayed out, clad in the usual black cargo jeans. Plenty of pockets. Good for carrying...things...one might enjoy. And keeping them organized. You didn't want to reach for one thing and get another. If you didn't notice in time it could be unpleasant. Or very fun. Certainly not what you expected, but definitely an adventure.
For now, peace. Peace was good. Relaxing. Sitting. Thinking. Meditating. Feeling the energies. Whatever term you wanted. Whatever this plant made him feel. It kept it calm. Chill.
With ease due to his adjusted eyes, Chillum brought the pipe in his hand to his face. Positioning the lighter, he closed his eyes. The flame would ruin his vision. Even worse, it'd be -bright-. Like, no way. That'd kill the feel. Light brought too much reality. Nah, dark is better. Lighting the plant, he inhaled and took a long drag, then held it in for a second before another slow exhale.
The dungeons was a smart idea of a smoking place. See, the main problem is fumes. Fumes spread. People hunt for the source of fumes. So he had to make the fumes normal. Or covered. Where were there fumes? Where potions were. The dungeons. Dark, convoluted, full of little dark corners. Good thinking self, good job. No one will catch me here.
Surely.
Now, normally the grounds would be a nice place to smoke, except for two issues. One, with the nice weather, the grounds were sure to be full of students, and he didn't want his smoke to irritate anyone else.
Secondly, what he was smoking wasn't completely legal.
True, Spain was lenient. Fines and citations. Still, it was a nuisance.
For a second, a flame lit up the pocket of darkness in the dungeon, illuminating long purple hair and pale blue eyes. It quickly went out, leaving a small orange glow burning in the darkness, which slowly died down. For a few seconds, nothing happened, then there was a brief exhale of breath, and a strange smell wafted into the air.
Chillum, however, had been sitting in the dark long enough for his eyes to adjust. Even without the lighter flame, he could see his lanky legs splayed out, clad in the usual black cargo jeans. Plenty of pockets. Good for carrying...things...one might enjoy. And keeping them organized. You didn't want to reach for one thing and get another. If you didn't notice in time it could be unpleasant. Or very fun. Certainly not what you expected, but definitely an adventure.
For now, peace. Peace was good. Relaxing. Sitting. Thinking. Meditating. Feeling the energies. Whatever term you wanted. Whatever this plant made him feel. It kept it calm. Chill.
With ease due to his adjusted eyes, Chillum brought the pipe in his hand to his face. Positioning the lighter, he closed his eyes. The flame would ruin his vision. Even worse, it'd be -bright-. Like, no way. That'd kill the feel. Light brought too much reality. Nah, dark is better. Lighting the plant, he inhaled and took a long drag, then held it in for a second before another slow exhale.
The dungeons was a smart idea of a smoking place. See, the main problem is fumes. Fumes spread. People hunt for the source of fumes. So he had to make the fumes normal. Or covered. Where were there fumes? Where potions were. The dungeons. Dark, convoluted, full of little dark corners. Good thinking self, good job. No one will catch me here.
Surely.