This is not an exit

Razekiel Lykoi · 07-24-2010, 11:07 PM

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And suddenly she erupted in questions, and with each one his back bent back a little as if blown away by each, his brows raised, and his glasses toppling sideways coincidentally when she questioned them. When the barrage seemed to end, he raised his ringed fingers and jingling bracelets and waved his hands, mildly cutting her off. He held his head next, laughing, the joint in his teeth tipping into his lap, briefly burning his jeans, before he patted it out and returned the smoking stick to its rightful place. "Slow down, slow down, man! We got a thousand years for talking, little miss liberty, there's no rush!" he wheezed, chuckling, and straightened the rose-colored extensions of his half-mooned gaze.

She seemed to have forgotten his warnings, though the prince had hardly meant to do more than inform her anyway. He let that go quickly and, backtracking through what had been thrown at him, attempted to return to the original question. "Marijuana, man, that's the stuff," he grinned, pulling the joint from his mouth almost as quickly as he had put it back in. "Some lifesaving smoke, man. All of Mother Earth's glory packed into one radical little package, man, sends you on a groove ride. That's the stuff. Come on, freedom girl, take a try." Shameless and unthinking, he extended the joint to her in his fingers, the jewels and shine of his rings and bracelets gleaming from a spot of sun.

"And, uh," he grabbed his glasses with his other hand, then extended it as widely as he did the joint, now holding both out boldly for her to take. "Glasses, man! Paints the Mother her favorite color, try 'em on!" In all the excitement, he completely forgot about the last few questions, and sat there grinning ear to ear instead, both arms extended and offering the joint and glasses without a second thought.

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