[attr="class","sinbody2"]Jaron generally didn't do well with down time... Especially the kind that was spent entirely in solitude. It was, partially, his fault - he'd gone to the Drop Point when he saw that ship careening towards the ground, but had taken one quick glance at the list and high-tailed it out of there. He hadn't seen her right away, but some part of him knew she'd be there soon (if for no reason other than her name was where his wasn't), so Jaron had taken whatever route he had to to avoid people entirely from there the entire way home. It was the childish thing to do; he could've stuck around and chatted it up with his friend, but he'd suddenly felt a little ill at the thought.

It had taken a few hours of moping and another quarter-flask of Jameson for him to get his head on straight. He didn't need the ships to bring him his instruments before he started to perform; there were enough raw materials in Nemus that he could surely make something.

Some sort of makeshift drum - or hell, a maraca - would've been the smartest route. Simple. But no - Jaron was a complex man, and so he'd put his efforts into something equally as difficult. He'd gathered one of the thick vines everyone had been using for rope, spent what felt like half his life cutting down a tree with one of the saws he'd been gifted from a Smith in Exurbia, and found a rock sharp enough to do some very imperfect whittling. And then he set to the task of making his very own guitar.

It had taken hours - probably days, actually, but with the way they went on PE it was impossible to tell - but now, as he sat with it in his lap, he felt happy. And that was not an emotion that came easily to Jaron. He looked down at the strings, which had taken a hell of a lot of work to figure out how to place so they made a sound kind of similar to what he was used to without snapping the vine. His hand ran over the body, mostly smooth from the amount of friction he'd put on it with the stones, then slid up the neck to the nails that held the strings in "tune". It was by far not the best sounding instrument out there, but it was something he'd made, and it actually worked.

Grinning, Jaron rested his head back on the trunk of the tree he and Zee had climbed together. Since their last abrupt departure, he'd been working on getting better with the whole tree thing, because it was gorgeous up here and he'd be damned if he let himself miss out on it just because he couldn't balance worth a damn. Now he sat at just about the same height as before, back to bark and legs dangling on either side of the branch. Sol was on its way down to the horizon, though he imagined there were several more hours until actual dusk - the perfect time to perform. Closing his eyes, Jaron took a deep breath, situated his hands on the guitar, and began to sing, sober, for the first time since landing.