19th of Spring, 522
Cleon sat in one of chairs on the front deck, enjoying another Syka sunrise. Which was to say a dense, misty downpour that obscured the horizon as he looked upon the bay. It wasn’t so bad though, he thought as he took another pull of the wooden pipe he cradled loosely in his right hand, pulling hard enough that the bowl emitted a bright cherry glow that briefly illuminated his face before going a dormant dark red buried beneath ashes. About time to refill the bowl.
He sighed and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he slowly breathed out the smoke through his nose. The vaguely flowery scent of it was mostly lost on him now after spending much of the morning smoking the weed the lady had called blue vision, but the sense of calm remained, settling over him in such a way that he was able to acutely examine his thoughts as they came to him.
It eased some of his other concerns, while stirring other hungers but Cleon felt that the trade off was worth it. By his right leg he had an open bottle of wine to suppress those other desires if need be, however it didn’t look like he would need to this morning. He felt alright. Actually he felt better than alright, he felt fine. Despite all he had been through over the last several days, he’d actually been putting on weight, and had nearly grown an inch which was something he held onto to make himself feel better when the world felt like it was closing back in on him.
He had still not wholly mastered his feelings on the subject, but he liked to think that he was getting there. Still there was so much prejudice to unlearn. Things were different here in Syka, the people were nicer, the food better, the opportunities more plentiful and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about what he didn’t have. His body wasn’t right. He didn’t know how to do anything. He was a total fool at his job. His swimming skills were quite embarrassing, almost as much as his skill working wood.
An then there were these things he’d set out on the deck in front of him. Devices that while he generally understood their purpose, he knew next to nothing about utilizing them. Starting from the left there was an unstrung bow, followed by a hand axe, and then finally on the right, a machete. Things he would need if he was going to learn how to hunt, and traverse the jungle. How did one start that exactly though?
James had mentioned he could go to really anyone in Syka to ask about it, but over the last few days he couldn’t help but isolate himself as his illness became more acute. It was simply easier that way. Whatever this was that had been affecting him, it did more than just give him cravings. It made him more aggressive, less restrained and much to his chagrin, quite a good deal more foolhardy than he already had been. There had always been a little bit of the fool in him, preferring laughs to the opposite, though here they no longer struck the same cords as they once had.
Perhaps it was the added responsibility he felt for watching over Faye, but he found that he didn’t quite like being laughed at anymore. He wanted to be taken seriously, and not for a boy. Indeed, he’d felt like he had grown up a long time ago when he was still living underneath the unmentionables. It wasn’t even like this was his first taste of responsibility either. He’d taken care of his two younger sisters long before they ever came here, so what was different?
Maybe he’d changed in response to these cravings, or could it be in response to the physical changes he was experiencing. He did feel a lot stronger than he had been coming here and that could have had some effect on his mental health.
As he mulled over that last thought, he put the pipe to his mouth and drew on it till he cashed the bowl. A few flecks of ash got into his mouth and Cleon wrinkled his nose though he managed to resist spitting it out till he got up and leaned over the deck’s railing to do so. His hair came back slightly damp and he flicked it back so it wasn’t in his eyes as he rested for a moment against the railing.
There was a good deal of strangeness that came with the new life, but it was a strangeness he felt he could stomach as he had the rest that had come up so far. The only thing he still was having a hard time with was a point he found himself constantly pushing back into the recesses of his mind, although it was always kind of there. He’d managed to get it down to a dull, anxious pang that surfaced every once and a while. That was the best he could do for now till the next blow pushed it all the way to one side or the other.
With a heavy sigh, Cleon turned back around to where he had set his bag against the lounge chair, and started refilling the bowl of his pipe.
WC - 898
He sighed and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he slowly breathed out the smoke through his nose. The vaguely flowery scent of it was mostly lost on him now after spending much of the morning smoking the weed the lady had called blue vision, but the sense of calm remained, settling over him in such a way that he was able to acutely examine his thoughts as they came to him.
It eased some of his other concerns, while stirring other hungers but Cleon felt that the trade off was worth it. By his right leg he had an open bottle of wine to suppress those other desires if need be, however it didn’t look like he would need to this morning. He felt alright. Actually he felt better than alright, he felt fine. Despite all he had been through over the last several days, he’d actually been putting on weight, and had nearly grown an inch which was something he held onto to make himself feel better when the world felt like it was closing back in on him.
He had still not wholly mastered his feelings on the subject, but he liked to think that he was getting there. Still there was so much prejudice to unlearn. Things were different here in Syka, the people were nicer, the food better, the opportunities more plentiful and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about what he didn’t have. His body wasn’t right. He didn’t know how to do anything. He was a total fool at his job. His swimming skills were quite embarrassing, almost as much as his skill working wood.
An then there were these things he’d set out on the deck in front of him. Devices that while he generally understood their purpose, he knew next to nothing about utilizing them. Starting from the left there was an unstrung bow, followed by a hand axe, and then finally on the right, a machete. Things he would need if he was going to learn how to hunt, and traverse the jungle. How did one start that exactly though?
James had mentioned he could go to really anyone in Syka to ask about it, but over the last few days he couldn’t help but isolate himself as his illness became more acute. It was simply easier that way. Whatever this was that had been affecting him, it did more than just give him cravings. It made him more aggressive, less restrained and much to his chagrin, quite a good deal more foolhardy than he already had been. There had always been a little bit of the fool in him, preferring laughs to the opposite, though here they no longer struck the same cords as they once had.
Perhaps it was the added responsibility he felt for watching over Faye, but he found that he didn’t quite like being laughed at anymore. He wanted to be taken seriously, and not for a boy. Indeed, he’d felt like he had grown up a long time ago when he was still living underneath the unmentionables. It wasn’t even like this was his first taste of responsibility either. He’d taken care of his two younger sisters long before they ever came here, so what was different?
Maybe he’d changed in response to these cravings, or could it be in response to the physical changes he was experiencing. He did feel a lot stronger than he had been coming here and that could have had some effect on his mental health.
As he mulled over that last thought, he put the pipe to his mouth and drew on it till he cashed the bowl. A few flecks of ash got into his mouth and Cleon wrinkled his nose though he managed to resist spitting it out till he got up and leaned over the deck’s railing to do so. His hair came back slightly damp and he flicked it back so it wasn’t in his eyes as he rested for a moment against the railing.
There was a good deal of strangeness that came with the new life, but it was a strangeness he felt he could stomach as he had the rest that had come up so far. The only thing he still was having a hard time with was a point he found himself constantly pushing back into the recesses of his mind, although it was always kind of there. He’d managed to get it down to a dull, anxious pang that surfaced every once and a while. That was the best he could do for now till the next blow pushed it all the way to one side or the other.
With a heavy sigh, Cleon turned back around to where he had set his bag against the lounge chair, and started refilling the bowl of his pipe.
WC - 898