Groups
Description
This girl is incredible - skinny jeans and loudly graphic tees hug the only thing about her that is traditional: her hourglass shape. Otherwise, she's tall and brown, her black gurls are 80s big, and she wears huge shades.
Personality
If she's not drunk, she's hammered. Belligerent and hubris.
Equipment
She wears a heavy chain necklace and carries a switchblade in her leather bomber jacket.
History
Established 1987, been owning bitches ever since.
Drugs has been there the whole time, drinking her life-juice steadily in order to maintain her ideal state of intoxication. It was difficult to stay that way for any extended period of time, but she perfected the art.
Even though more often than not she was the life of the party - or a fearful, awe-inspiring whirlwind of extroversion - today she was quite muted. At least, it was muted to her, swaying her hourglass figure liquidly around her chair, looking as if she'd fall any minute while she enjoyed her music.
Taking a deep breath, filling her lungs with stale, smoky air, was all it took to send her over that edge of euphoria and into what the drug-abuse people like to call "the point of no return".
A sour look overtook the girl's brown face, and she pulled her flat-ironed black hair back away from it, to give it some room - it didn't help. this atmosphere was killing her high, and she needed to get out.
She lifted her oversized brand-named purse and slung it heavily over her shoulder, stumbling towards the exit, unfortunately bumping into the occasional customer due to her lacking balance.
That scared the ever-living-daylights out of her, and she jumped skittishly as soon as she made contact with the man. "OHmigod," she started, her voice heavy with what would seem like sleep to the average non-drug-abuser, "I'm ssso-sorry," she hissed with the heavy breath of relief as her adrenaline eased up. Close attention would even notice a tiny shiver slink through her as she pulled her headphones up off her head and hooked them around her neck.
"You ok?" she said, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder non-chalantly.
Drugs couldn't help but laugh; she could tell that he was in a most horrible mood, but the face he made was silly! She leaned back, wrapping her hands around her torso as if to hug herself, biting her lip to contain the last echoes of her laughter.
Drugs dropped her arm slowly when she noticed that the branch in front of his face moved down into his sleeve; her eyes saccaded violently over every sinew, across the texture-filled bark-skin, eyebrows raised, practically panicing. Her breath was still for such a long while that it took her body's need for oxygen to remind her to breathe. She was always selectively keen, moreso when she was so high she didn't give a fuck, and this tree-man set her ADHD going.
She took a deep breath, and couldn't find words to say, only reaching out slowly to try and grasp at the branch, feel it to know for sure that she wasn't batshit crazy and that a tree was talking to her.
.. because it's happened before.
Drugs watched with the eyes of a child at a magic show, wide and innocent, entirely engrossed in the spectacle before her. This touched her sensibilities in such a way that she could truly appreciate, especially in her current state of consciousness. She swayed a bit, losing track of her balance for a bit, before responding to the presence of others. "Yo, guys, look at this guy, he's a tree-" she stopped in the middle of her sentence, perplexed by the people gathering next to an unconscious body.