If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-09-20 11:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | guns, marijuana |
Who: Marijuana and Guns.
What: Business meeting between old friends.
Where: Random bar just outside Marijuana's territory.
When: September 21st, evening.
Warnings: Language, drug use. Will update if needed.
Marijuana had been watching the unfolding conflict between the New Gods and the Christians with wary eyes and telling himself that there was no way he was getting involved this time. They hadn't hurt anyone important to him yet and if they decided to go after his family... well, Marijuana would bring down a world of hurt on whoever was foolish enough to tangle with the Drugs. At least, that's what he was telling himself. Brimming with power from Hempstalk, from Hempfest, from the worldwide Marc Emery protests, it had all been poured into the Highway, into protecting the home he shared with Heroin, into protecting the apartment building across the street where he kept his immortal employees. Still, even though he had a plethora of weaponry at his disposal, he could always use more. For defence, of course. It hadn't been too hard to dig up Guns' number from the recesses of his mind, it hadn't been that hard to call him and set up a meeting.
The hard part was trying to convince Wes to stay at home. Marijuana had made the mistake of telling his guard exactly who he was meeting and Wes had fixed him with that cold, hard stare and told him in no uncertain terms that Marijuana had to have a guard for this. Marijuana had rolled his eyes, decided to come up with a punishment for his guard's insolence later, and allowed Wes to come along merely to make the mortal feel useful. After all, guarding an immortal was rather pointless. Still, as Marijuana walked into the bar and took a seat in a corner table - back up against the wall so he could see the whole bar - Wes ambled over to the pool tables, where he could win money and keep an eye on his idiot boss at the same time. Relaxed and sitting like he was holding court at the same time, Marijuana lit a joint and ordered a beer as he waited for Guns to arrive. The bartender looked over at him as the smell of marijuana smoke drifted through the air but Marijuana closed his fist under the table and drew every bit of smoke back into his own system and the smell went away.
Wes glanced over at him from across the room. Marijuana shot him a cocky little smirk, receiving a roll of the bodyguard's eyes in return, but Marijuana's attention turned toward the door rather quickly as his immortal senses felt the arrival of another god.