If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-12-28 14:03:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | marijuana, rehab |
Who: Marijuana and Rehabilitation.
What: Rehab comes to pay her respects. Marijuana is a douche.
Where: The Highway, first floor.
When: Monday afternoon.
Warnings: Language, soft and hard drug use.
The shop was still quiet. Marijuana had made Cam turn the music back on, the music that constantly filtered out through the sound system and speakers in every corner, but Cam hadn't had the heart to turn it up too loud. Still, business continued. Cam and Matt were out on a rather large run, Wes was minding the counter; taking calls and looking down at Cam's profit projections with a rather confused look on his face. He had no mind for numbers, not at all, but it was something to concentrate on other than his rather forlorn boss who was in the back room weighing up heroin, something to concentrate on other than the sounds coming from the video footage of Dave Marijuana was still playing on the back room TV, something to concentrate on other than worrying about Cam and Matt out on their run with Johnny as their guard instead of Wes. Wes' responsibility was Marijuana, even though there was that feeling somewhere down in his chest that said he should be protecting Matt. And Cam. Of course, Cam as well.
In the back room, Marijuana lifted his head from the large shipment of heroin he was sorting when he heard the song change. It was set on shuffle and Marijuana slumped back into the couch as Neil Young's voice rang out quietly through the shop. Marijuana resisted the urge to sing along but- "I love you baby, can I have some more? Ooh, ooh, the damage done." Marijuana quieted after singing one line, pursed his lips to remain silent as the song continued, ended, and just kept weighing up gram counts of heroin to sell in bulk to the mid-level dealer who reported to him. The music changed again, to Floyd or Zeppelin or AC/DC but Marijuana didn't notice.
One night of sleeping on Matty's couch, with Heroin off at Phaedra's, and he was already a wreck.
It was almost second nature to pinch a bit from the large packaged brick of heroin, almost second nature to tip some into the spoon, to watch it bubble, to pull it up into the needle but- Marijuana's head snapped up as the door to the shop opened. Out in the main shop, Wes' head snapped up as well and the smirk that curled over his lips was predatory at the sight of Mira - Rehab - walking into the shop. Leaning back in his chair, the mortal raised his eyebrows at the goddess. "Here to see the bossman?" Eyes dark, Wes wanted nothing more than to- but Marijuana dropped the needle onto the coffee table and stepped out from the back room, stepping up behind Wes and the bodyguard struggled inwardly for a moment before the predatory nature within him was quashed.
"Mira." For all the turbulence in his mind, Marijuana's voice was steady, calm, and just a tad curious. He didn't have the energy to actively hate her at the moment. "What brings you to my shop?"