(Totally my Fault) Flora/Noche/Marijuana
The bright lights were disconcerting, and the haze of peace that kept him from even thinking of violence felt like a too thick blanket that was cutting off circulation some how. Those things in effect, though, it was still a hell of a party. And Noche knew his pretty wife liked a party. A party for these new gods? These friends of hers? What better way to show his intentions were, for him at least, good?
When she pointed out the drug lord to him, Noche walked with her toward the couch with purpose. Even if he was not quite sure what that purpose was.