Said like a true millennial as she grins around the Death Pipe Of Ancient Insight (so termed by her) at her darling old man, then takes a deep puff. Despite that whole warning and her commentary. It's her birthday, damn it. And more importantly, the one she's been waiting for. She was ported in a year after the last friday the 13th birthday. She deserved all the drugs for making it to seeing the next one.
Point taken, if his face is anything go by. He still watches her carefully in case of any immediate negative side effects. But nope. Seems all's good here. Except for the fact that Will can't remember the last time he took a toke (do the kids still use "toking"?) of anything, so he might make an idiot of himself. But that's probably fine, too, since April's seen him at his very worst.
"As the birthday queen commands." Lightly stated because there's no coercion going on and Will won't stand for her to think otherwise. His own puff is slower, like old age really does effect ability to move at anything other than a crawl, but fortunately that's enough for him to bite down any urge to cough. He pulls the pipe away after and looks at it like he's seeing it for the first time. "Good shit, you think?"
And also take the pipe back and she scoots over to slide down against him, the back of her tanktop riding up a little so it's back lower back against the dirt as she settles her head into his lap.
Will shifts his legs to make ample room. And to turn what little thigh meat he has for easy access as a human pillow. It's a wholly natural kneejerk reaction at this point, opening up to give April the best space she could want.
"Retired cop." Point made with an actual point of his finger to that pipe before he rests his hand on her stomach. "Nobody's makin' me pee in cups for anything, so we could do this sort of thing back home without it ever being a problem."
"You can only do a cursed birthday spirit quest once, Will."
God. She cracks her eyes open just enough to give him a Serious Look while she waits for the mystery pipe to hit. That he might not be destined for as big of a trip as her has not occurred yet.
As he takes another slow, but longer than the last, puff, it finally occurs to him. He might ride this out like no big deal at all. Then again, he might get twice the effect just because the Porter has a Certain sense of humor. They'll find out soon enough.
"You're right, you're right. Apologies." His fingers drum along his stomach gently. "Unless we come back for the next Friday the 13th birthday you have."
"Nah. We'll have to, like, take over a small nation for that one. Ten years in this place gets me one for free."
Her eyes slip closed as she just embraces the small bit of drifting- nothing dramatic yet- that is settling over her. Husband under her head, ground under her butt. She's ready.
He laughs, obeying as he does so. There is some slowness to his movements that stem more from eighty billion wounds than old age, but it lets him keep up his role as April's pillow. Who loses there? No one.
"God," mumbled as he settles. Wife at his side (sort of), fingers slowly moving over her stomach still, ground under his butt. All is well. "How many small nations you wanna take over in the next ten years? Names optional."
His smile is huge, not that she can see it. One hand goes up under his neck as he basks in both sun and the idea of a dog-covered paradise. A stretch of silence passes before...
"Think they call that Utopia. But we'd have to round out the population with raccoons, too. Your people." Which would make elections a hell of a thing to watch. "Probably have to cap tourists. Unless you wanna rake in more money than the Pope, the Queen, and God."
Silence is fine. For a while, he's content with silence and physical contact, breathing slow and easy as he waits for any high to kick in. Feels like it's a slow process. But if his immunity does nothing than he's sure when it does kick in, it'll be a hell of a whammy. Which is why when he first hears an odd-sounding whimper and looks over to what he perceives as a shadowed dog ambling not too far from them, he has to take another look. Real or imagined? Hell if he can tell, so he pats her stomach urgently and points in the direction of the potentially whiny...dingo?
His pointing grows more urgent...and slightly off from where the thing he possibly is imagining now stands. Four-legged, tailed, all signs that indicate something dog-like. Something dog-like that seems half drunk and suddenly plops down with a yawn showing off big teeth. To Will's eyes, at least.
"There." He is pointing to a spot, like, two feet away from the mystery dingo. "Looks like a dog. You don't? It's laying down."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-05-14 01:24 am (UTC)Said like a true millennial as she grins around the Death Pipe Of Ancient Insight (so termed by her) at her darling old man, then takes a deep puff. Despite that whole warning and her commentary. It's her birthday, damn it. And more importantly, the one she's been waiting for. She was ported in a year after the last friday the 13th birthday. She deserved all the drugs for making it to seeing the next one.
"Your turn."
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Date: 2016-05-14 01:44 am (UTC)"As the birthday queen commands." Lightly stated because there's no coercion going on and Will won't stand for her to think otherwise. His own puff is slower, like old age really does effect ability to move at anything other than a crawl, but fortunately that's enough for him to bite down any urge to cough. He pulls the pipe away after and looks at it like he's seeing it for the first time. "Good shit, you think?"
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Date: 2016-05-14 01:52 am (UTC)And also take the pipe back and she scoots over to slide down against him, the back of her tanktop riding up a little so it's back lower back against the dirt as she settles her head into his lap.
"Thanks."
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Date: 2016-05-14 02:20 am (UTC)"Retired cop." Point made with an actual point of his finger to that pipe before he rests his hand on her stomach. "Nobody's makin' me pee in cups for anything, so we could do this sort of thing back home without it ever being a problem."
no subject
Date: 2016-05-14 02:28 am (UTC)God. She cracks her eyes open just enough to give him a Serious Look while she waits for the mystery pipe to hit. That he might not be destined for as big of a trip as her has not occurred yet.
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Date: 2016-05-14 03:11 am (UTC)"You're right, you're right. Apologies." His fingers drum along his stomach gently. "Unless we come back for the next Friday the 13th birthday you have."
In six years.
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Date: 2016-05-14 04:09 am (UTC)Her eyes slip closed as she just embraces the small bit of drifting- nothing dramatic yet- that is settling over her. Husband under her head, ground under her butt. She's ready.
"Babe, lie down before you hurt yourself."
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Date: 2016-05-14 08:49 pm (UTC)"God," mumbled as he settles. Wife at his side (sort of), fingers slowly moving over her stomach still, ground under his butt. All is well. "How many small nations you wanna take over in the next ten years? Names optional."
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Date: 2016-05-15 11:09 pm (UTC)She closes her eyes, chin tilting up towards the sky as she settles in for...whatever happens. Spirits and bunnies or whatever coming to talk to them.
no subject
Date: 2016-05-16 01:40 am (UTC)"Think they call that Utopia. But we'd have to round out the population with raccoons, too. Your people." Which would make elections a hell of a thing to watch. "Probably have to cap tourists. Unless you wanna rake in more money than the Pope, the Queen, and God."
no subject
Date: 2016-05-17 07:47 pm (UTC)She says, while lounging high in another country. Shhh. She brings one hand up to idly put his shin while she stares at the stars above them.
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Date: 2016-05-18 02:21 am (UTC)"Hey, hey. You—you see it? Hear it too?"
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Date: 2016-05-18 02:29 am (UTC)She closes her eyes to focus, zone in on Will's voice- and it still takes a long moment for her to analyze and assess just what he's asked.
"See what?"
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Date: 2016-05-18 02:39 am (UTC)"There." He is pointing to a spot, like, two feet away from the mystery dingo. "Looks like a dog. You don't? It's laying down."