With a wrist flourish, Sweeney produces his own, the long-stemmed ceramic pipe he used on the knoll. Back before things went to shit. The one he smokes here on occasion. When he remembers to.
He presents it for examination. "Admittedly, I've had mine fer a long time, an' that's pretty much what they looked like then." But at the same time, he could have traded it out countless times and hadn't.
"Ya wanna good cup in yer hand." He points out each thing in turn. "Good balance, comfort in yer mouth. Some folk like something heftier if they're gonna chew on it." He shrugs. "Not fer me." Which is good because the terra cotta would shatter.
"Weight matters, mostly if yer gonna smoke it without usin' yer hands." Which he also doesn't do.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-02-01 03:53 am (UTC)He presents it for examination. "Admittedly, I've had mine fer a long time, an' that's pretty much what they looked like then." But at the same time, he could have traded it out countless times and hadn't.
"Ya wanna good cup in yer hand." He points out each thing in turn. "Good balance, comfort in yer mouth. Some folk like something heftier if they're gonna chew on it." He shrugs. "Not fer me." Which is good because the terra cotta would shatter.
"Weight matters, mostly if yer gonna smoke it without usin' yer hands." Which he also doesn't do.