IC Inbox for Hadriel

[zen_en_vert]

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[zen_en_vert]

I don't know what I'd get. Echinacea?

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[greywaren]

what the fuck is that

i was thinking about you joking about pot that one time

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[zen_en_vert]

Yeah. Okay.

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[greywaren]

seriously?

i thought youd say no

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[zen_en_vert]

No. Fuck it. Okay. Somewhere other than the clinic.

Tranquility's temple.

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[greywaren]

hah. im sure hed get a kick out of that

sure. i need a few hours

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[zen_en_vert]

text when you're on the road.

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[greywaren]

[The next text, predictably, is sent a few hours later.]

omw

[zen_en_vert]

[Bruce heads out too, meets him there not long after, outside the temple gates.]

[greywaren]

[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.]

I've got a lighter somewhere, hang on.

[zen_en_vert]

[He tucks his hands in his pockets and moves to lead him inside, wondering;]

What do you have? Dreamweed?

[greywaren]

Brought it back just now. I'm not really a smoker.

[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.

[zen_en_vert]

Next time bring back more. I'll teach you how to make butter.

[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.]

[greywaren]

Butter?

[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?

[zen_en_vert]

You can turn butter into anything you want. Toffees, sweet georgia browns, vegan nut bars, cocoa-

[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-

[greywaren]

[He laughs.]

Sounds like a hassle. I'd rather just get drunk.

[zen_en_vert]

My father was the drinker.

[So, like so many people, he veered hard in the other direction. He looks around now, and finds a set of steps to sit down on, with a long sigh.]

[greywaren]

[That makes him go a little quiet, and Ronan remains standing.]

He was an asshole. Shouldn't ruin the whole experience for you.

[zen_en_vert]

With my temper? Yes, I should.

[He says, blowing out smoke again, before urging him.]

Don't loom.

[greywaren]

I like looming.

[But he ambles over to sit near Bruce anyway, taking in a sizable puff and holding it in his lungs, before exhaling.]

I dunno. I get pissed, but I wouldn't hurt anyone who wasn't asking for it. I don't think you would either.

[zen_en_vert]

Well, you're wrong about that. When I became the Hulk, that first accident, I killed three colleagues.

And I did much, much worse before that happened.

[greywaren]

I didn't forget.

[He says, bristling.]

But you didn't kill me.

[zen_en_vert]

Worse than I've told you.

[He promises, closing his eyes.]

[greywaren]

Yeah?

[He shrugs.]

You're here now.

[zen_en_vert]

I'm here now.

Your brain makes bad weed. Maybe I should start growing some.