If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-08-19 21:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | heroin, marijuana |
Who: Marijuana, Heroin and the Marijuana Party (played by Kendra in this instance).
Where: Thomas' apartment, across the street from the Highway.
When: Friday evening.
Warnings: Possible language, definite drug use, extreme awkwardness.
"I know he'll like you." Marijuana murmured as the creaky elevator jolted and started to rise. They had spent a good portion of the evening shopping for Thomas, for the apartment and were ladened with many bags; Marijuana carrying one very large bag of books and a few containing clothing much like his own and Heroin carrying bags filled with posters, picture frames and a variety of other accessories to make the apartment a bit more cluttered and hopefully, more comfortable. "And I can't tell you how much this means to me, amante-mine." Shifting the bags to one hand, he reached out to wrap an arm around Heroin's waist, nuzzling in against his neck briefly. "Thank you, for- well, just thank you." He really didn't have words for what this meant to him, that Heroin was willing to meet his son, was willing to attempt a good relationship with the god-child that would eventually end up as Heroin's stepson.
Not that he was going to mention that little doozy to either of them.
The elevator shuddered to a halt, the hall quiet as most of the mortals were out on drug runs. Marijuana took a shuddering breath and smiled softly up at Heroin even as the thought of interacting with his son made him uncomfortable. He loved Tommy, he did, in that instant sort of connected way that he really couldn't explain but that couldn't cover up the fact that Marijuana was a father and that thought both scared and intimidated him. Still, shifting the bags in his hand and tightening the arm around Heroin's waist, they stepped out into the hallway, passing the painted doors that housed Marijuana's most important mortals before reaching the end of the hall. He had to let go of Heroin to raise his hand but it faltered before he knocked and, turning to his fiance, he leaned in and pressed a light and hopefully reassuring kiss to Heroin's lips. "Thank you, I- I love you." Not as eloquent as he would have liked, but this first introduction was weighing heavily on his mind.
Chest feeling tight, anxiety curling around the edges of his mind, Marijuana actually knocked his time before nudging open the door. He did own this floor, after all. "Tommy, it's- me. I brought your Uncle Heroin for you to meet." He heard movement, the door opened and they stepped inside, Marijuana swallowing hard and trying to force down every single drop of nerves.
He didn't succeed.