InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Don't get all upset, sugah."

If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods,
@ 2009-05-14 15:43:00

Entry tags:

alcohol, heroin, marijuana, rehab, shrooms, speed

Who: Marijuana, Heroin, Speed, Alcohol, Shrooms, Rehabilitation (offscreen). Open to the non-addictives if they'd like to pop in for a show.
Where: Mount Sinai Hospital: Narcotics Rehabilitation Center.
When: Thursday, 2 AM
Warnings: Extreme immorality. Drug use. Language. Setting a hospital on fire. Possible post-fire sexuality (wonder who?).

Marijuana, dressed in black, moved into the hospital quietly, aware of his brothers and his legal cousin in his vicinity. Security was no issue; those who had smoked pot within the last three years slumped down into a stoned sleep as Marijuana accessed the latent THC that just stuck around for so damned long and those who hadn't touched the reefer? Marijuana wrapped their eyes in smoke, trusting Heroin to use his own power to make their entrance and presence go completely unnoticed. Marijuana wasn't speaking as they made their way through the hospital, not trusting himself to say much more than 'let's get down to fucking business' because his eyes were already darkening in anticipation of reaching into the minds of his people, giving them back their highs, handing out the ten pounds of weed to his beautiful, beautiful followers and watch them walk out of this torture chamber happy and free and high.

With that thought, they reached the center and Marijuana easily found the narcotics department first, peering in through the door to see so many of his stoners sleeping fretfully without their drug. "This is my stop." He turned to face his family, eyes completely black and he gave them a grin reminiscent of a shark. "Let's do what we do best, yeah?" His eyes lingered on Heroin for a moment before they trailed over the rest of their little task force and he gave them a cocky salute, that grin still fixed on his face. "Let's make the bitch fall." He murmured and he was already reaching out to the minds of his stoners even as he slipped through the door. His family could go to their thing. This was more important than spending time with Heroin or making sure that Speed and Shrooms were alright.

These were his people.

(OOC: Decided to go with comment placeholders for each 'narrative' for the sake of sequence and flow, hope that works with everyone.)

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closed to Marijuana

upinsmoke
2009-05-14 02:52 pm UTC (link)

The door slammed closed behind him, Marijuana lighting up a joint and making sure the nurses were sound asleep before casting his mind out over the entire wing. So many! So many, all asleep in their own little shared rooms and he just grinned and took up a spot in the middle of it all, dumping at least four to five hundred joints out at their feet. And then? Then he reached out to access all that latent THC in their minds and pushed. Instantly, most of them were awake, awake and needing. The mental high they were receiving was something but nothing compared to what they would get from him. Marijuana made sure of that.

Marijuana began to laugh as doors banged open quickly, the small rooms emptying almost completely and the addicts stared at him with wide eyes, taking in black eyes and a trail of res leading down from the corners of his lips and simply not caring. Instead, they dove to his feet and Marijuana, still laughing, watched as they realized they didn't have lighters for the joints they were picking up from the ground. He stared down at the tips of his fingers and, flush with power, they began to glow a bright, hot, fire red. He made his way through the rather large crowd, giving smiles and hugs and chaste kisses as he lit up each joint with the tips of his fingers.

Sure, they were mortal. But they were too busy to care of they saw someone with black eyes lighting up their joints with his fingers.

Once there was enough fire, Marijuana leaned against the wall of the crowded hallway - so crowded, where had all these tens, almost hundreds of people come from? - and watched as it began to fill up with smoke. That scent brought those who had resisted him from their beds to join and Marijuana just watched, ripping power, so much, away from them at an alarming rate.

His skin darkened and took on a black, sticky sheen. His hair was heavy - was that res weighing it down? - and he felt the bubble of tar coming up from his throat. But, eventually, the stoners began to realize that they were free and they started leaving like a cascade of prisoners escaping from their cells.

Marijuana watched them go with a cruel smile.

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	closed to Speed upinsmoke 2009-05-14 02:53 pm UTC (link)
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closed to Speed

crankit
2009-05-17 11:53 am UTC (link)

Intentionally causing harm wasn't in Speed's nature. Sure, most of his user died because of him, but if he could, he would help them in a heartbeat. But this was different. Rehab was hurting him but more importantly, hurting his people. That was something he couldn't deal with and now that he had a way to deal with her, there was no way he was going to give it up.

They were wide awake, he made sure of it, and they- his people- were yearning, aching for it and Speed wanted them just as badly. He wanted them back, out of this place, out of the clutches of this goddess that had stolen them and made them go without what they wanted most. All thoughts about Davis or Marijuana or even Harmony were gone as he made his way to his ward. His eyes were hightened to bright, electric blue and he wasn't shaking so much as he was vibrating with his and their need for each other. The backpack he wore was full of pure meth and needles and pipes for those of them that didn't prefer snorting.

He stood somewhere near the center of the ward and closed his eyes. Casting out his senses he clutched at his followers and pulled. He heard doors bang open and simply smiled a toothy smile, calling to them through their addictions. There was a rush of them and the first ones clung to him, pulling at his tight fitting clothes while the rest gathered around, pracically trampling each other to get to him. He silenced them with raised hands and reached into his bag and held up a baggie of meth, which left them staring in quiet awe. With a shaking hand he handed it to the mortal wrapped around his waist. Slowly he gave them what they wanted one by one, knowing who needed what utensils simply from a touch. With every baggie, a kiss or stroke was given and slowly, Speed's pupils dialated until a thin ring of neon blue was all that remained. His pale skin glowed and by the time the last one was served he was little more than a ball of energy, shaking and glowing. He looked around him, at all his people, happily high or getting there and he smiled.

"You're free!" he said, his voice more rough than it's usual lightness. "Remember me." he said as they rushed past him with renewed energy and happiness. "Remember that I set you free, I made you happy, not this place. Not this prison."

(Reply to this) (Parent)

	closed to Heroin upinsmoke 2009-05-14 02:53 pm UTC (link)
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	closed to Alcohol upinsmoke 2009-05-14 02:53 pm UTC (link)
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Re: closed to Alcohol

have_another
2009-05-17 01:52 pm UTC (link)

It's a rare event that causes Alcohol to choose to be a team player, but this is one of those times. Rehab can't take them all on, even she knows that, but even letting her think she can get a foothold over any of them is unacceptable.

She saunters down the hallway reaching out to those that are hers with invisible tendrils of power. Want, desire, and need. How could they possibly live without her? By the time she was done, not one of them would want to.

They were hers, always and forever. And in this moment, they were the most important things in her world.

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	closed to Shrooms upinsmoke 2009-05-14 02:54 pm UTC (link)
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Re: closed to Shrooms

egodeath
2009-05-15 06:43 pm UTC (link)

Tracer went in with the rest of his siblings, but he had his own mission. There weren't any of his followers here - not here to give him up, anyway. They came to give up his brothers, and giving him up was a side effect. He wasn't addictive. He'd never wanted to be, but the hold that his siblings had on their followers? Sometimes he envied it. His truest followers only wanted him - they didn't need him.

For a few moments he rethought his plan here tonight. He could feel, somewhere in the wards above them, someone being given non-convention treatment for a cluster headache. Shrooms - low doses. Just enough to help him through it. Shrooms closed his eyes and basked for a moment, able to heal someone when he'd been so unable to heal any of his family, but then he closed the connection. That wouldn't help tonight, and he didn't want to damage that patient further with what he was going to do.

Because tonight? Tonight he was letting the mold win. And when he knew that it was time - when he'd started the fires and doused what he could. When they were raging? He hoped it helped to burn the mold out, too.

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	closed for offscreen Rehab reaction upinsmoke 2009-05-14 02:54 pm UTC (link)
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Heroin/Marijuana

upinsmoke
2009-05-14 03:05 pm UTC (link)

His people were finally out of her grasp, some of them, and the center was burning within the hospital. He could feel the ones he had freed tonight, feel them running wild throughout the city and toking, toking, toking! Laughing and kissing and hugging and they were free and Marijuana laughed along with them from his vantage point from across the street. In fact, he laughed so hard that sticky, black tears rolled down his already jet-black cheeks.

For the black, the res, the tar, it was awake. It had claimed them, all of them for its own and it was bubbling up to take over his mortal form and shape. Skin black, hair heavy and sticky, Marijuana's eyes had no trace of green or blue or even white. No, they were as dark as night but reflecting the red of the fire. In all actuality, he probably looked rather terrifying but he didn't care. Sirens approached but Marijuana just wrapped a cloud of smoke around him to keep himself completely hidden from mortal eyes as he withdrew a packet of pamphlets from his pocket.

"You CAN quit marijuana!" He muttered to himself, reading off one of them and forcing fire into his fingertips, which glowed redhot for a moment before the pamphlet was reduced to ashes. "You CAN regain control over your life!" He muttered with another laugh and another pamphlet dropped to the ground in a pile of white ash. Beautiful.

The smell of smoke clogged his nostrils, the power boiled and bubbled under his skin and where - where - was his Heroin?

(Reply to this)

	healing_hand 2009-05-15 05:34 am UTC (link)
	[ooc: Guess which angel is going to be ~~pissed~~ ~~annoyed~~ ~~irritated~~ putting it down to His Grand Plan. Your pups do have a way to mess with R.] (Reply to this) (Thread)

	upinsmoke 2009-05-15 11:16 am UTC (link)
	(OOC: Cool? MJ really doesn't care all that much who he pisses off. XD) (Reply to this) (Parent)