{M} - i fly like pa{p}er, get high like planes.

Razekiel Lykoi · 06-11-2011, 03:05 PM

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The sable man within the garage looked him over with bloodshot and drooping eyes, his response hazy, slow and unwitting. Razekiel laughed; he knew those symptoms and knew them well, but perhaps the prince was so much an "expert" in the marijuana department that he had learned how not to act in the midst of his smoking, or perhaps he had adapted his regular behavior to be the same. Whatever the cause, Razekiel treated this boy like a rookie smoker, though he would not say it; perhaps smoking the stuff was nothing to be proud of, but what the Razekiel care? He was too damn happy to give a fuck while on the stuff.

"Wa-ha-ha-hoowww, man, you are stoooooned, man," the coyote burst into laughter, actually pointing in his humor a moment before leaning on his knees to chuckle out the rest. "Real blitzed, man, I dig it! Here, you wanna try these peepers? They're righteous, man; everything looks real bitchin' pink, you know?" The coyote pulled the glasses from his nose and tossed them to the sable man as he drew closer, straw eyes glancing through the garage under the gaze of untinted colors.

"Me too, guy," Razekiel gurgled, reaching up under his multicolor headband and producing a number of pre-rolled joints — why they were stoned up there and not in the satchel on his hip, the stoned coyote did not explain, though his smoke-filled status did not exactly call for it. He tucked them away again a moment later. "This'un's some kind of skunk weed, man, but I grew the smell out of it. Tastes just as groovy without stinkin' up the Great Mother, yeah?" He looked down at the mower with a perplexed look, them burst into hazy laughs once more. "The hell is that, man? What the fuck you doin'?"

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