If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-05-14 22:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | dave henderson, dylan hayes |
Who: Dave Henderson and Dylan Hayes
Where: Within seeing distance of the Highway
When: Four AM.
Warnings: Drug use, language.
Bossman hadn't remembered to prepare the market for the increase in demand and Dave had been too loopy when Marijuana had explained their little plan to think of it. As such, the community was thrown into chaos and violence. Every guard had been called up, every single body; Wes' lower guards, Cam's techies, Matt's junkie friends, the minor runners, even the high school connections had been called on up the ranks, outfitted with guns and knives and told to keep a close eye on the territory surrounding Marijuana's shop. Matt had already stopped a murder in progress a few blocks down and Cam called Dave to bitch about trying to keep an eye on the younger kids to make sure no one had taken advantage of them.
But Dave?
Dave was feeling utterly useless. He was sitting on the steps of a Marijuana-friendly record shop across the street and a block down from the Highway, toking casually and pretending to read a rather worn copy of 1984 in the flicker of the illuminated name of the store. Of course, he wasn't reading, he was scanning the street every five seconds. Wes was in a similar stance in front of the Highway - although no one would believe he was actually reading - and every so often, the bulky bodyguard turned his head to check on Dave.
Dave just sighed. His jaw was healing quicker than a normal mortal's would - Marijuana had touched it briefly and mumbled something about accessing THC molecules and putting them to work - but his ribs still hurt when he breathed and Marijuana hadn't bothered to fix the bruises on his face. A reminder, perhaps, of the way Dave had threatened to betray him by committing suicide. Well, that was hypocritical, Dave mused to himself as he remembered a conversation he'd had with Marijuana after Cam had posted the list of dead seconds. "Would you kill me too?" "Would you betray me to the cops?"
Well, that had answered that question and Dave sighed lightly again, looking up at the black sky and taking a slow drag from his joint.