ADAM
He'd gone 'home', as much as the corner in the Advocates could be called that, when he got back to Torchline, just to check if Pet was there; he wasn't. Adam had been both worried and relieved by that at the same time. On the one hand, he could stay in limbo for now, not have to deal with the certainty of any tragedies. On the other hand, he was in limbo, which fucking sucked.
It was weird, being both intensely messed up and in no pain at all. He stood on the pier, hands shaking as he lit a match under a joint he'd traded for some pills he had in an old pair of pants. What were they? He had no idea, but he'd promised the recipient they'd see stars. He'd be gone before they could come to complain. As for his own prize, Adam inhaled, but of course barely felt the heat or taste of the smoke in his mouth. It was unsatisfying, like a half-given kiss - he inhaled harder, almost sucking on the end of the joint, and still nothing.
Frustrated, Adam burnt down more and more of the joint until the end was at his knuckles; it should have burnt but instead all he had was the dull knowledge that his finger had been affected. The Voice's strange, dull version of nerves.
In a bizarre second it was in his mouth, Adam almost daring his taste buds to disgust him with it; it was as if someone in the next room was doing it, the smell and acrid bitterness only vaguely available, groaning, he spat it out on the sand, shaking his head and looking off over the ocean.
It was weird, being both intensely messed up and in no pain at all. He stood on the pier, hands shaking as he lit a match under a joint he'd traded for some pills he had in an old pair of pants. What were they? He had no idea, but he'd promised the recipient they'd see stars. He'd be gone before they could come to complain. As for his own prize, Adam inhaled, but of course barely felt the heat or taste of the smoke in his mouth. It was unsatisfying, like a half-given kiss - he inhaled harder, almost sucking on the end of the joint, and still nothing.
Frustrated, Adam burnt down more and more of the joint until the end was at his knuckles; it should have burnt but instead all he had was the dull knowledge that his finger had been affected. The Voice's strange, dull version of nerves.
In a bizarre second it was in his mouth, Adam almost daring his taste buds to disgust him with it; it was as if someone in the next room was doing it, the smell and acrid bitterness only vaguely available, groaning, he spat it out on the sand, shaking his head and looking off over the ocean.
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