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Log Title: Hashosaurus

Log setting: Lelong Park’s playground, at dusk

Log Cast:
Jason
Jean-Batiste
Glass
Trace
Ain
Alisynde

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Windbreaker tucked into its pouch and belted around his waist, licorice clove trailing spiced smoke behind him, Batiste wanders into the park with a shambling-stiff but carefree stride and quiet smiles to those accompanying him. Or those he accompanies. Whatever. He's limping, sort of, but it's hard to tell which foot he's favouring - it seems to switch from step to step. There's a languid sort of radiance about him - his usual thoughtfulness, but turned up to a far, -far- cheerier degree than it usually is. There's scratchmarks visible on his arms and shoulders around the tank-top straps, as well as a reddened welt on one shoulder. Oh, and he's wearing his cutoff sweatpants, not his bicycle shorts, by the way.

Glass walks along, staying quite close to Batiste and bumping shoulders with him as they walk. Occasionally he takes the other's hand and lifts it to his own mouth so he can take a drag from Batiste's licorice clove without actually relieving him of it. Glass is speaking quietly, "I don't remember. She had dyed red hair, though, and she got all these cardboard boxes, right? Glued them together and painted this big spiral thing on them, all different colours. Stuck it to the ceiling fan in their apartment. I was a huge trip, to lie on the floor and look up at it."

Trace bounces on after his cohorts, or ahead sometimes, depending on what it is at the moment that's catching his eye. At one part it's a partially trampled flower that he frees from a wet mess of clingy grass. At another, he chases at a bird until it flies off and checks to see what bug or worm it was trying to devour, slightly disappointed when he can't find it. Or sometimes it's Ain. Oh, sure, he tries to be subtle about it, but there's this new guy trudging along with them, so sometimes he tries for a slow walk slightly behind the others and checks him out curiously. The attempt at 'casual' during these observing sessions fail miserably, mostly because he was so bouncy-manic just moments earlier.

Ain slopes in last, now rather dishevelled, slept-in hair hanging limp over his face, and a few pigeon-toed steps behind the rest of the boy-gaggle. A couple of those rather bouncy strides peculiar to young men in overly large Air Wairs, and he stops short, a collection of bony angles, elbow-hugging tight as if he's suppressing one of those nasty violent shivers. Murmured clipped-English words behind the curtain of ink-black, didn't sound polite for once, though.

Jean-Batiste shakes his head at Glass, laughing softly as he draws his hand back from the older boy's mouth to take a drag off his clove. "Yeah, I bet..." he murmurs, shaking his head more. Maybe he's getting dizzy, just imagining it. "Think of if you did that with fluorescent paint, and had only a black light on. Wouldn't that be awesome? You could make people think it was a black hole, and they'd think they were falling up into it."

Jean-Batiste holds out his hand to Glass again and glances back over his shoulder to smile tentatively at Ain as he does. It makes his steps weave a little, and he bumps into Glass's shoulder again. "D'you want a smoke?" he asks the gothboy. Don't all goths smoke cloves, after all?

"Falling up!" Trace grins and jumps, but can't quite achieve it. Damn gravity. "Sounds fun," he comments, and then adds, "Maybe we oughta do something cool like that to the fan in our apartment. Wait, uh. If it had a fan." That gets him giggling again, and he dashes off ahead of the group a little. Swings! I'm coming!

Somewhere, out behind him, comes some familiar voices. Jason's smile twitches at some triggered memory, shoulders shaking with a small giggle. Oh, wait, this is more immediate, isn't it. Reluctantly, he drags himself from his contemplation of... whatever it was he was contemplating and turns slightly (wincing slightly - hrm, damn). Oh, wait, a whole bunch of people! And... someone new. Whoah. (He wasn't terribly observant when leaving this morning.)

Ain crouches for a second, body folding like a marionette with the strings cut, arms around himself like a Have You Hugged Your Goth Today commercial. Apparently that was...some shiver. He looks up at Bat, solemn pewter eyes grateful, flicking from boy to clove, delicate nostrils flaring. "Thanks...I...yeah."

Glass laughs, "Yeah, with black-light paint it would be deadly. I bet some people would puke. Especially with the right music." He glances back at Trace and grins, "You'd think it would be a great idea, but the thing is, it was just held up there with duct-tape, this big peice of cardboard, cut round and almost as big as, you know. How side the room was. So after a while the tape just gave out, and it fell on us, and knocked this glass bong off the table and broke it, and it really scared the piss out of Andy."

"Last one there's a rotten-- Jason!" After an enthusiastic dash, Trace skids to a halt at the foot of the castle and blinks up at it, and the redhead perched there. Definitely in a good mood today. He grins big and chirps, "Hi, Jason! Kin' I come up? Or wanna come down and swing?"

Alisynde steps in from the park.

Eww! Rotten Jasons! Jason wrinkles his nose and grins broadly at Trace. Oooh, he's in a good mood this morning, that's for sure. Sorta that kinda glowy mood that lights up the smile. But still dreamy-glowy. He giggles and murmurs down to his blue-haired friend, "Well, fergot my zoot suit, but I'll improv jus' fer you..." He winks playfully, then lets his eyes drift up to the rest of the group. Well, to Batiste. Whup, there he goes again. Mm, hand lifted in a lazy wave.

Jean-Batiste laughs again, giving Glass a fond, sidelong grin as he turns his attention down to his windbreaker. A licorice clove is procured from the softpack tucked within, and it and a small Bic lighter is passed back to Ain. "Smoke up, it's good for you," he murmurs, grinning a little. But then the magic word is called, and Batiste looks in that direction. His steps slow, and his lazy-radiant expression warms up a few notches to something downright sunny. "Hey," he calls simply to the redhead, aiming that sunny smile at him.

Alisynde wanders through the grass, her sandals held in one hand. She hums quietly to herself, a faint smile gracing her features.

Trace isn't certain as to whether he's been given permission to come up or whether or not Jason's agreed to come down. So instead he just loiters around the base of the castle, waiting for the others to catch up. Since he's looking towards the oncoming procession, he's able to spot the newest arrival. He cups his hands to his mouth and hollers out with surprising volume for such a skinny little chest, "Halllooooo Aliii!!"

Alisynde looks up and over towards the base of the castle, with widely dilated eyes. As she spots Trace, her mouth curves into a wide and rather stoned-looking smile. "Traaaaaaaace!"

Glass grins at back at Batiste and winks at him, before looking over at Jason. The tenderness dissapears from his expression, but it's still a friendly grin, "Hey. How you doing?"

Jason actually, for once, doesn't get a burr up his ass for Glass's proximity to Batiste. He just gives a lopsided grin at Glass's call, then goes back to grinning stupidly at Batiste. Swing. Zoot. Wait... Oh! Jason blinks and looks down at Trace and giggles, then, with a stifled groan, pushes himself to his knees and grabs onto the pole beside him and slides down. A giggle as he lands. "Sleepyheads," he accuses playfully.

Trace curves by the swings, slapping his hand down against the plastic curve of one of them and calling out "Seat check!!" before sprinting off towards Ali. More just to still be moving than anything. He skids to a stop, nearly slipping on some wet grass, and grins embarrassedly at the almost-blunder. "Hi! Come swing with us." And then he's latched onto her hand and is tugging her on back towards the group.

Alisynde smiles beatifically at Trace, and is dragged through the grass, ribboned skirt fluttering behind. She says simply, "Okay." Baked. Definately baked. Trace is probably getting a rather strong whiff of pot off of the girl as he brings her over.

"I was tired," Batiste grinningly retorts to Jason, defending his sleepyhead status. "Sue me for actually -sleeping- for once, okay?" He ambles over towards the redhead and, in front of God and everyone, leans in to give him a soft and somewhat brief kiss. When he draws back he murmurs, "And I took another shower, and was going to come out here to smoke a pipe and that's when everyone else started piling in, too." He smiles - heading to the park in a group is -not- a complaint at all. He turns to look back at Ali, waving to her and casting a sunny smile her way. "Feeling good?" Not that he really needs to ask, considering how baked she looks.

Alisynde giggles softly. "Mm-hmm." Nope, didn't need to ask that at all. Happy Ali. She just stands there for a moment, then reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small tin-foil wrapped rectangle. She looks at it for a moment, then smiles widely at the others. "S'good hash. I brought some for you." She offers it out to Jean.

Oh wow. Jason wasn't /quite/ expecting public displays of affection. He nearly topples over at that kiss. "/Bat/," he hisses, suddenly very concious of that /group/ Batiste brought with him. He looks around, then lightly smacks the blond boy on the shoulder, scowling playfully. But then he lowers his eyes... to Bat's neck. Oh. My. God. If he could get any redder, he would. He looks around even more frantically. He's GOT to have a tattoo on his forehead that says 'guess what *I* did last night.' He chokes and swallows lightly, then grabs Bat by the arm and starts dragging him towards the swings as well. But, oh, look, it's Stoned-Ali. Ahem. He smiles sheepishly. Not that she'll notice.

Glass grins at Alisynde's tin-foil stash. "Mmm," he says, then laughs gently, "If you model it into the shape of a tiny lizard before you smoke it, it's more potent." A little shrug, "At least, that's what somebody once told me. I think it works."

If Ali noticed, she obviously doesn't care. Besides, affection is a beautiful thing. Her eyes light up as Glass mentions reshaping the hash. "Hadn't thought of that. M'mom said that once. Never tried it. Wanna?"

Once upon a time, Trace might have been shaken up and sobered by all this, but magical events and newborn understandings have brought some security to the boy. He just grins at them and turns his attention to the lizard hash. "Who all gets t'try?" he asks without subtlety, clambering up onto a swing and standing on the plastic seat with one foot, pushing off with the other, so that he swings gently while standing on it.

Stumble, stumble, stumble. Batiste is obediently dragged towards the swings, still grinning that sunny-bordering-on-goofy grin. Jason's blushing. -Jason's- blushing. Batiste's life is complete. Soon as the redhead's stopped dragging him for a moment, he grins towards Ali and Glass and says, "We can experiment?" Yes. Getting stoned for the scientific ideal, see? "I've got my pipe...we'll all share, right?" He starts fumbling in his windbreaker pouch, trying to locate the pipe using only one hand.

Alisynde nods. "Experimenting is good. An' everyone should experiment. Y'have to..to..." She snaps her fingers, looking pleased. "Y'have to get more than one opinon for the study." That is, the mythical study in Ali's mind. "Not valid if you only have one person, see. Invalid. Must make the experiment valid. Yes."

Yeah, he's blushing... But he's getting over it quickly. Jason slips his hand down and gives Batiste's a little squeeze, and then he hops up into the swing like Trace did, only facing the other way. Push off and... /wheeee!/ Okay, he's giddy and giggling. He calls over his shoulder as he goes back and forth, "Hey, Ali, how much of that lizard ta go 'round?"

Alisynde plonks down into the grass. "Gimme a minute. Gotta make the lizard." She unwraps the tinfoil and starts forming the rather sizeable chunk of hash into a rather sizeable lizard.

Glass grins and sits down on the grass beside Ali and watches her as she begins to sculpt.

Alisynde tips her tounge out of her mouth as she sculpts, her fingers working carefully. Finally, she holds up the creation. "Lizard!" she announces. And it is a lizard, sort of. Just a lizard with cat ears and dragon wings folded on its back.

Trace leaps down off the swing to see his very first hash lizard. Whoosh! Big jump. Too uncautious about it perhaps, because he lands hard on one ankle. Doesn't bother him, though. In a crouch he rubs it for a moment, still grinning, and then hobbles on over to peer over Ali's shoulder. "Hey, that's great! Weed sculpting. Awesome."

Jean-Batiste stands beside Jason as he swings, reaching out to give him a light push every time he goes past. "Time to smoke the lizard," he intones mock-seriously, and finally locates the little silver pipe. Hrm. He eyes up the bowl, then looks at the little hashosaurus. "Mmn," he murmurs uncertainly.

Glass laughs, "I like that lizard. We never made 'em with wings. I bet it makes you more high with wings than without." He looks up at Batiste's comment and laughs more, then manages to control himself and intone stenoreously, "Time to smoke the lizard."

"Coz wings help you flyyyy...." Trace spins around two or three times with his arms out before dropping down beside Ali again. "Lizard's gonna meet some *fire*!" he giggles.

Alisynde beams proudly, then looks at the bowl, then back at her hashosaurus. "Hm. This is a problem." Her mouth purses, and her nose twitches slightly as she regards the situation with an almost exaggerated solemnity. She turns to Glass. "Glass? D'ya remember /how/ we're supposed to smoke th' lizard if it doesn't fit in th' bowl?"

Jason hops off the swing as well, landing in a crouch with a wince. He reaches up and uses Bat's hand to help himself up. "Wings makin' you fly? Naaah..." He giggles softly and, nuzzles Bat's arm when no one's looking. "Hope it don' mind bein' incinerated..."

Glass blinks at Ali, "Erm, well. We always made it small enough to fit." He peers at the hash-lizard. "Would it fit if it were sitting up, like begging? That might be hard to smoke, but it'll look cool when it melts."

Alisynde says, "Couldn't make it smaller. My fingers all all big and bumbly."

Glass laughs, "Yeah, sure they are."

Alisynde starts the beginnings of a pout. "They /are/. And I'm all swimmy and muzzy and I want a hamburger. With chopped onions."

"Hash lizards like bein' incinerated and melted," Trace informs everyone knowledgeably. He whoops and moves over to wrap his hands around the swing post and lean back, dangling. He pulls this off until his sneakers start to slip again in the wet grass, and then skids a little and his hands slide down the pole with him as he lands square on his ass. He just laughs and picks himself up. He and this grass aren't getting along today.

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