[Ronan is there waiting, and he lifts an eyebrow toward Bruce as he approaches, before ducking inside of the temple and shoving a hand inside of his jacket, offering Bruce a joint.
It's kind of comical, actually- Ronan, still looking ever the angry rebellious punk adding some light drug dealing to his resume, and Bruce, looking like... well, Bruce.]
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Did he stay? Some of them stayed.
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you need medicine?
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I need to get out of the house. What's going on out there?
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thats why i stopped coming by for awhile.
other than that the citys a fuckin island right now. its like from a dream.
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Maybe I should head out & look?
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its not real.
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I think I'm getting some kind of seasonal affective nonsense.
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thats what drinking is for
but i could probably get you something else. if you wanted
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i was thinking about you joking about pot that one time
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i thought youd say no
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Tranquility's temple.
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sure. i need a few hours
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omw
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It's kind of comical, actually- Ronan, still looking ever the angry rebellious punk adding some light drug dealing to his resume, and Bruce, looking like... well, Bruce.]
I've got a lighter somewhere, hang on.
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What do you have? Dreamweed?
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[But it's not like he hasn't done it before. Ronan pats down his pockets for the lighter, before finding it and tugging it out.]
And I don't do the fancy shit.
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[Says Bruce, reaching to take the joint with the expert touch of old hippies everywhere, and the lighter too.
It has been a long time, but he takes as familiar toke, holds the breath, and lets it out through his nose and closes his eyes with a sigh.]
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[He scoffs a little at that, but takes the lighter back and lights up his own, impassive at the taste of smoke.]
Not brownies or some other shit?
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[He explains, amused- in his day they passed pot back and forth, but okay then.]
Bake it into a muffin and eat it with a warm, fresh slab on top-
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