InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Hm, I'm feeling your hands..."

Z. Luc Haust // Apollōn (radiantdelphi) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2011-08-04 20:59:00

Entry tags:

apollo, sif

i smoke two joints before i smoke two joints..
Who: Luc and Lucy.
What: Stoner times.
Where: Pax Letale, apt 1005.
When: Friday, August 5, 2011. 4:20pm. No, really.
Warnings: Drug usage (though I maintain marijuana is not a drug..) and probably language. It can't be helped.
Notes: None yet..

It had taken Luc most of the day to sleep off his hangover - not that he'd gotten very drunk the night before at the club, just that the cheap scotch he'd been drinking didn't sit well with him. He was a spoiled drunk, after all. His body wasn't the kind to let him forget that knowledge.

He'd rolled out of bed sometime around 2:45 in the afternoon, and if he hadn't decided to give himself the day off in every sense of the word (as in one of Luc's few days without any sort of to-do list, a rarity in and of itself), he probably would have been very upset with his own behavior. But, luckily for him, it was a day off, and so he took his time preparing himself breakfast, taking a nice, leisurely shower after he'd eaten. He didn't bother to shave, because he didn't really think he had anyone to impress that day - besides, he'd shaved before he left for the club the night before. Rubbing a palm across the light stubble on his cheek, he figured he was doing okay for today.

He found a purple American Apparel shirt in his clean pile of laundry (that he would have to put away tomorrow because, again, he had the day off) and a pair of Calvin Klein jeans that were older than most things he owned anymore - didn't even bother with underwear, because he was a classy gent like that on days like this. The shirt was long enough to cover any indications that he was going commando, and that was good enough for him.

After putting the dirty dishes in the sink to be cleaned later, he made his way to the bedroom to pull his stash box out of the nightstand drawer - perching on the edge of his bed while he broke up some of the "Cali O.G. Kush" (as it had been pandered to him as, but the names of such things really didn't mean shit to him - as long as it was good and got him high, they could call it "Eskimo Bunnyfuck" and he'd buy it) to roll a nice, fat joint between his fingers. A skill he'd honed over many years - as marijuana was the only thing that he'd ever done that he would probably never quit. There may come a day in the unforseeable future where he would quit drinking (if he had to) - and he'd never been much for designer chemical drugs like cocaine or ecstasy, or much of a prescription pill-popper - but marijuana was something he would never, ever give up. For anyone or anything. It was one of the few things that calmed him down and zenned him out - and with how stressed he got from working with some of the most high-maintenance people on the planet? He needed something for that. Hell, he deserved it for how much bullshit he had to put up with more often than he didn't.

It was as he was rolling said joint, though, that he remembered a discussion with one of his downstairs neighbors (though pretty much everyone in the complex was his downstairs neighbor, he supposed) about.. well, exactly what he was about to do. And in the past week while he'd been so swamped with things he had to do, he had forgotten he'd made semi-plans to hang out with one certain Lucy who shared a love for that bitch Mary Jane. So, tucking the joint behind his ear (it was nice that he could smell it from there as well - and his longish hair covered it nicely from unwanted attention), he went into the kitchen to wrestle up some snacks - a bag of Cheetos (stoner staple), a new container of Oreos, and a six-pack of 7up (not everyone was all for caffeine, after all, and he liked to be correct about things when going into new situations) from the fridge.

He arranged them to where he could carry it all as well as his keys and cell phone, then headed out the door to the elevator - barefoot, but he was staying in the building, so he didn't think it would matter really. He was concerned they hadn't gotten the elevator fixed for a brief moment, but by the time he'd considered taking the stairs there was a DING and the doors opened wide. So it was easy getting to the 10th floor, and to apartment 1005 - which he only worried was the right apartment after he'd knocked on it. Because he was the great thinker, Luc Haust. Only, you know, not.

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radiantdelphi
2011-08-05 04:43 am UTC (link)

Luc had figured out about two minutes in that she was going to take longer than he cared to stand up for - so when he heard the faint permission to have a seat, he took her up on it. He left the open bag of Cheetos on the counter and made his way to the living room, finding the nearest spot on the couch and settling himself onto it.

He was glad he's forsaken shoes for that particular trip, because now he could fold his legs up underneath himself Indian-style and help himself to going through channels on the television. He'd untucked the joint from behind his ear and was flipping it through his fingers idly - and very gently, so as not to break it, because he was a pro like that - as he went through the options he had on TV. Which wasn't much, considering it was Friday before prime time - yeah, and being in Pacific time sucked royal balls more often than it didn't. Good thing he wasn't a football fan, otherwise he'd really be pissed at life.

He'd found that movie Hitch with Will Smith in it - and he had to leave it once he stumbled across it. Because regardless of what people said about that movie, he found it hilarious. Plus, Will Smith could do no wrong in his eyes, but that was another story for another time. And on more than one occasion toyed with a similar notion of being a ~matchmaker/'consultant' but it was just too much work and not enough gain on his part - since money wasn't enough of a reason to do it, and most of the people he would have ended up working for probably weren't worth his time or effort.

He jumped a little when Lucy finally came in the room, because he'd been paying more attention to the movie, he had to admit. So it was with a surprised little laugh that he turned to look at her. "Hey!" he said, his cheer concealing his start quite well he thought. "I brought this!" He held up the joint for her appraisal then. "Didn't want to start it without you - though we already missed 4:20.." He was just kidding on the last part - 4:20 was definitely a teenager's excuse to get high. Considering he wasn't a teenager anymore, he didn't need excuses anymore either.

He could tell the hair on her head was a wig - it wasn't totally obvious, it was just that Luc had a little more knowledge of things like that being in the entertainment industry and all. Wigs weren't a big deal to him, really - hell, some even looked really good. But he figured that this particular young lady wasn't wearing one because she thought it was cute or she was trying to be deviant. He figured there was a purpose to it. And one that wasn't appropriate to comment on at that particular time.

"C'mon," he said with a pat on the cushion beside himself. "Come sit and we can smoke this." Because seriously, after that long-ass wait outside the door (which wasn't nearly as long as it had actually felt, but whatever), he definitely wanted to smoke. Like, five minutes ago.

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sifwheat
2011-08-05 05:04 am UTC (link)

She nervously toyed with her hair. He had laughed, did she look silly? Oh God, she looked silly didn't she? She had rushed getting ready and now she looked silly and he could tell she had been sick and she never should have gotten ready so fast. Okay. There was nothing she could do, so she was just going to pretend she hadn't heard him laugh. Maybe he wouldn't do it again and everything would be okay.

At the sight of the joint, she relaxed. This she could handle. After all the stress she'd gone through today, she could use it. Again, she fingered a strand of her hair then joined him on the couch. Not too close, but close enough.

"What are we watching?"

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radiantdelphi
2011-08-05 05:25 am UTC (link)

"Hitch. But you're more than welcome to change it if it isn't your thing. I've seen it before, but it's hilarious." Luc brought the joint to his lips, holding it between them while he dug a Bic lighter out of his jeans pocket - a task a little trickier than he'd anticipated with how he didn't want to uncross his legs. But he came out successful, and with a quick flick of the starter he sparked up the doobie and inhaled deeply - pulling it from his lips to make sure it wasn't running down one side before he took another drag.

He could tell by the way she kept touching the hair that she was uncomfortable - either with the wig itself or maybe just by Luc's presence. He couldn't really be sure which, but it just made him more careful - as if he weren't normally a person who minded their P's and Q's, now he was on high alert: code red. He hoped the smoking would loosen her up a little bit - it seemed like the girl needed it.

"Here," he croaked, as he was still holding in his hit when he passed it off to her - normally he was a 'puff, puff, pass' kind of guy, but he'd only sparked the joint out of courtesy for the lady, so he didn't take his second hit. He was a gentleman like that. He sucked in a little more air, pushing the smoke further down in his lungs before he let it go, exhaling a cloud off to one side of them; he'd never been so rude as to blow a hit directly into someone's face. Unless they'd asked him to first, of course.

"It's some good shit - you may wanna take it easy," he cautioned her, because this was the kind that would expand in your lungs quick as fire - making you choke out on your hit if you weren't prepared for it. He felt obligated to warn her, as he'd done it to himself the first bag he picked up of the stuff.

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sifwheat
2011-08-05 06:11 am UTC (link)

She shook her head. She didn't mind what was on TV, so long as it was suppose to be funny. "I don't mind. As long as it's funny, and not like Seven Pounds." So many tears fell after that movie. So many.

When he passed the joint, she gave him a slight smile and took the offering. Heeding his advice, she took a deep drag and held it, passing it back to Luc. She exhaled slowly, already feeling much calmer than she had been. Psychological effects were just as potent as the drug itself.

"I'm pretty sure we were suppose to do this forever ago, weren't we?"

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radiantdelphi
2011-08-05 06:23 am UTC (link)

Luc almost choked on the hit he took when he got the joint back - almost being the operative word. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, turning his head so he wouldn't cough anything on her should the smoke get the better of him. He managed to reduce it to a couple snorted puffs of haze - and thought it better to pass it on at that point.

"Yeeeah," he said - though it came out all deep and strained with how he'd said it on the exhale. It was a pretty massive hit - bigger than he'd thought it was. And that was what she said. He coughed a little once he'd blown out the hit, cleared his throat - chasing the frog that had risen there with the 7Up he still had. And effectively killing the cottonmouth that was starting up too - sweet, two birds.

"About that.." he said, and his smile turned guilty. "It wasn't intentional. At all. And I really am sorry for it - it was kind of shitty. But I wasn't blowing you off," he was quick to add, because he didn't want her to think she herself was in any way responsible for his mysterious disappearance from the world. "I didn't mean to - I just.. get caught up in shit really easily." Wow, he used 'shit' and 'shitty' within two sentences of each other. He was definitely already buzzin' if his vocabulary had taken that huge hit. Haha. Speaking of hit.. Yeah, he was stoned.

"I had to, like, move in and stuff. Then I got caught up at the studio pretty much, like, every day - and you have no idea how much of a pain in my ass Britney Spears is. Stupid money-makin' bitch." Wow. Random. Yeah, so his train of thought had derailed - but whatever. He was known for that - natural blonde and all. "But yeah. I figured since I got all that stuff handled I'd come by with an apology joint." He grinned brightly, pale eyes already showing bloodshot traces around the edge. "Am I forgiven this time?"

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sifwheat
2011-08-05 10:59 pm UTC (link)

She sighed and let her head rest against the back of the sofa and she closed her eyes. She was vacating the world for awhile, and it felt great. She listened to him and couldn't help but smile. She was putting a rhythm to his words and when he spoke he sounded musical. She wanted to lift her hand and start conducting, but that was too much effort. She felt ridiculously lazy right now. Everything felt light and wonderful.

Her eyes popped open when he mentioned Britney Spears though. "You work with Britney Spears?" She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Wasn't typically her type of music, so she eyed him carefully. "That's gross." And she giggled. She wasn't sure why, really.

She took the apology joint off of him and took another hit. This one made her sputter a bit, and of course, that made her laugh again. She nudged his ribs with her elbow, managing to request a can of soda between giggles.

"If you hand me a soda, maybe I will forgive you. I'll at least consider it," she said that last part in her best haughty voice, something she'd learned from her grandmothers on both sides. They had perfected that snobby, upper crust disdain for others and the sound of it always amused her. Now it was more amusing than ever.

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radiantdelphi
2011-08-06 06:13 am UTC (link)

"Yeah, among others - Britney Spears. She's.. a, uh.. trip. Let's put it that way." Luc wrinkled his nose a little at the comment about working with Britney being gross - because he agreed, but he couldn't really say anything about it. Biting hands that fed (thanks, Nate), and it was only acceptable as long as he kept it to himself. But she wasn't wrong at all. Not nice things should be kept to yourself, Mom always said. He could be good and mind his manners. Good and too high to keep thinking about it, really.

"A soda, huh?" He held his own canned beverage out to her briefly, grinning wide and stupidly for a moment before withdrawing the offer. "If I weren't such a gentleman then I would've given you this one - I mean, you did just say 'a soda,' not a fresh one," he said, and chugged the drink quickly as if to punctuate his statement. That way he had an excuse to grab one for himself when he got up from the couch and went to the fridge. "But for your forgiveness, I'll get you a new one. Though you're cheaper than I would have anticipated," he said over his shoulder, then slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a guilty laugh. He grabbed the sodas and returned to the living room. "I'm sorry, that came out so wrong." He snickered though, because he was stoned and he was one of those giggly stoners. "What I meant was that I got off easy."

He snorted and started rolling with laughter once he'd dropped his weight back onto the couch - because it just kept getting worse with the double entendre, and he couldn't even begin to apologize for that one slipping. Too many 'that's what she said's lingering in the air just then, and he found himself overwhelmed. So he just offered her the 7Up in apology, because if he kept talking he was just gonna make more of an ass out of himself. Subject change. "But yeah. Anyway." He snickered a little, clearing his throat to try and play it off. To no avail. "So what do you do? When you're not getting high with your dumbass neighbor, of course.."

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sifwheat
2011-08-06 07:02 am UTC (link)

Gross. She didn't want to talk about Britney Buzzkill anymore so she was glad the topic was dropped.

She didn't mind being referred to as cheap. She probably should mind, she doubted her mom would think it was nice, since she was so proud of their money and success, but oh well.

"It's silly to be grumpy about it. I mean, it totally won't change anything to be grumpy, right? So why waste time. Besides, we hadn't even met, so being mad over it seems dumb."

That was a lot of words. Whether it made sense remained to be seen, but in her head, it sounded epic. She was pretty proud of herself for it.

She pulled her sleeves down over her hands before taking the soda. She opened it and took a drink, focusing on the bubbles. They felt really weird on her tongue. It almost tickled in a way. Pot made everything much more interesting.

"I kind of do flowers. But only sometimes. It depends."

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radiantdelphi
2011-08-11 04:38 am UTC (link)

"No, you're right. Being grumpy never changed anything - except making all the people in good moods grumpy too," he replied with a laugh. Luc decided right then that he liked this girl - even with how neurotic she seemed. She reminded him of a kitten, kind of. One he wanted to rescue and feed and pet and love..

Speaking of feeding, as if on cue the munchies totally kicked in. Totally. (Goddamn he was stoned.) But before Luc succumbed fully to their powerful draw towards chips and cookies, he took the joint from her and drew another rip off it. He was gonna pass it off, but instead he let the smoke out and took another hit instead of a clean breath of oxygen just then. He had to pass it off then, because as he climbed to his feet (as he was still holding in the smoke) and half-stumbled (his bare foot had gotten caught on the other leg of his pants) his way to the kitchen to grab the Cheetos and Oreos - for the win.

By the time he blew out the second hit, he was starving. And was tearing into the chips before he'd even sat his ass back down.

"What kind of flowers?" he asked, because he hadn't been ignoring the comment (that was just rude, and Luc was just not rude) - and this could be useful to know for a later date. Well, non-date. Because it didn't seem that Lucy was even really into that sort of thing. Not that Luc really was at this point in his life either - but he was a huge fan of doing nice things for people he felt deserved it. And he was pretty sure there would come a day where Lucy would deserve it.

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sifwheat
2011-08-12 03:42 am UTC (link)

"Grumpy totally sucks," she stated, nodding her head as though that further cemented the thought into truth. She took the joint from him and craned her head to watch his movements. The rest of her body was feeling far too lazy to bother moving as well. That was effort and who wanted to put effort into anything right now? Thankfully, he didn't go far, and she was able to follow his movements. She squealed when she saw what he had. She'd forgotten about those.

"Oreos! Share!" Oreos held a special place in her heart. They were the go to snack in her house when she was growing up. She and her dad would eat the middles out of them, then use the cookie parts to build castles that would be terrorized by dinosaurs or milk floods. If they knew they had a beach day coming up, they'd save up cookies for days, then take them to the beach to use as sand castle adornments. The sea gulls loved those days, and usually had her work destroyed before the day was done, but it was so much fun it was worth it.

She took another drag, then quickly gave it back to him, now her attention focused on the Oreos. Oh but he had asked a question, hadn't he? Something about flowers. She needed to think about what they had just discussed. Oh, right, what she did. That's where the flowers had come from.

"I do all kinds of flowers. My aunt says I'm good at it. It's fun, sometimes. But then you get grumpy people who don't know what's good for them and they want ugly flowers." She sighed. "I feel sad for them."

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