If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-09-30 16:04:00 |
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Current music: | special k - placebo |
Entry tags: | datura, ecstasy, ghb, ketamine, marijuana, methadone, opium, rohypnol |
No hesitation, no delay / You come on just like Special K
Who: Marijuana, various NPCs, anyone who wants to attend.
What: Ketamine's birthday party!
Where: Warehouse by the docks.
When: Thursday evening.
Warnings: Language, alcohol and drug use, sexuality, the Date Rape Twins.
Notes: Same format as usual! Feel free to interact within the comments and if any of mine are wanted for subthreads (MJ, Methadone, GHB, and Highway mortals will be in attendance) just stick their name in the subject and they will appear!
A party was just what Marijuana needed and, thankfully, a birthday had approached and given him an excuse to go all out. Well, Cam had gone all out, but Marijuana had ordered him to. The mortal, as usual, had produced. The warehouse was bathed in royal blue light, with flashes of purple, green, and white produced from spotlights up in the rafters. Club music, not Marijuana's favourite, pounded out from the speakers, the bass high enough to make the whole building shake a tad, to have drinks rattling slightly on the coffee tables that were strewn between all of the low-laying couches that circled the dance floor and went beyond to the back of the warehouse. And the dug-out moat that usually served as a vodka river had instead been filled with a variety of candy as part of Marijuana's birthday present to Ketamine. And the warehouse was quite full; Marijuana had sent out the invitation to every mortal he had connections with. The lower drug runners had a night off to take advantage of the drugs that overflowed from baskets set out in between the couches. Wes' guards moved through the crowd, most of them intoxicated, but alert in case there was trouble. Cam's army of technicians and geeks darted about, making sure that the rope jungle-gym-in-the-air remained safe as the safety nets sagged. Bryn's prostitute friends were out in full force and doing business, sometimes out in the public eye, on the couches or against the wall.
It was, simply put, a Drug party, and a rather large one.
And Marijuana weaved in and out of the crowds. He made sure to spend time with his husband, yes, but he couldn't help but be social, greeting every Drug that arrived, checking in with Cam, who was manning the bar, hugging every mortal who made up his drug ring. He felt good. He'd stolen mortals from the Christians and, so far, had gotten away with it, and was now throwing a party that would strengthen every member of his family and would make his little brother smile and laugh and be happy. That was his main goal, to give his family even more power, and to see Ketamine smile because of all the effort that had been put into his birthday party. With that in mind, Marijuana slowly began to make his way to the stage that had held so many musical guests and was currently lying dormant, waiting for Marijuana to fill the warehouse with his voice.