Don't Mind Us, We Be Chillin'

[Deblod100]

Emma had to adjust her glasses, when everyone was reverting back to their mothers' tongues. Marino was digging around in the pantry for tea, but apparently there wasn't any green tea.

"I'm not... a tea expert. Find something that looks like it mixes goooooood with the stuff." Emma could only say, though she didn't see Marino dig around for a kettle. She was still trying to get her thoughts together. She was thinking of someone in her mind who she should've brought here.

She let out a small laugh.

"Heather, du går miste om (you're missing out)."

[FlockOfHens]

"Uhhhhhhhhh... Screw it... Herbal it is... Mañana, get some cups..." Marino looked over to his friend as he grabbed a few tea bags. He soon filled a kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil. He watched the flames closely, mixing from an orange glow to a blue hue. He soon wondered how they were supposed to make the tea again. You put the bags in the cup, then pour in the hot water. But what if it was weed? Or what kind of strain would be good for this? He already used his best ones in the brownies, so he turned over to his friend for help."

"Bissette... What strain do you have right now..? Is it the... the good shit..?" Marino felt his vocabulary swap over to his birth tongue. His words slurred all over the place and his vision began to betray him. Was there supposed to be a Viking here?

[LYourLocalAutist]

Mañana

He was being addressed. All the haze in the world couldn't dissonance his cognition (or whatever) enough to keep him from recognizing that name. In this state, his mother (father? (man he loved his dad)) rung out clearer in his head than typical English did. It also meant that the gibberish that would've been gibberish to him even sober currently being spouted from the mouths of his other compatriots only became less comprehensible. Despite this, he needed to focus, for his hermano.

"Entiendo, jefe."

And now, for the most monumental task achievable when you are a person of low tolerance who is baked out of their skull.

HNG

HNNNNG

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG

STAAAAAAAAAAAAAND UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP

After a bout of herculean effort unmatched by even the most rigorous of workouts and weightlifts, Manuel found himself standing on his own two feet and wobbling his way over to the kitchen, right past Marino, and into the cupboards for an adventure... in locating the teacups. A mild amount of difficulty concerning the aforementioned vision-swirls causing him to lose track of what was a cup or a bowl or possibly another person was involved, but he prevailed in the end through the employment of an ENTIRE OTHER SENSE.

TOUCH.

REVOLUTIONARY.

And there were thusly a good four teacups set neatly as possible on the kitchen countertop, the high Manuel looking quite proud of himself as he awaited the implementation of the tea aspect of the equation.

[SharkyTGirl185]

Bissette suddenly glared at Marino “What…kinda strain do I have? The good shit?!” He suddenly stood up, his weight shifting and stumbling forward, almost colliding with the wall before adjusting.

“Lemme tell you, if this shit is good enough with my dad’s chronic pain, it’s good enough for us!” He pushes past Marino, dumping the whole stuff into tea to mix it together “I’ll show you if this is the good shit. I’ll show you.”

[Deblod100]

Emma entered up following the group into the kitchen to prepare their "unique" blend of herbal tea that would surely send them further into the nether realm. She was watching the small blue flames at the kettle, boiling up the water. She was waiting for steam to happen to scream out.

"Don't drop the cups, Manana... We need them to get the tea. To the tea time.." Emma was feeling her balance begin to betray her, but she still stood on her two feet on the ground (or floor, she can't process). From what Chester said about his strain, it seems to be the good medical kind. Much be cramped with enough THC to send a horse down.

"Don't spill the good shit. We don't want to burn the apartment down." Emma said, but it was unlikely for it to happen, unless someone got really careless.

[FlockOfHens]

"Eyyyyy... Slow down, dude... slow... down... pffft..." Marino laughed the more reality began to falter. He assumed Bissette was there, but he looked more like a crude crayon drawing. He soon watched Mañana successfully grab a few ceramic cups on the counter. Marino walked over to place the tea bags into each cup as Bissette mixed in his father's strain. He soon looked over to Emma.

"It the, ummm... Is... Is the water boiling..?

[LYourLocalAutist]

"'M not gonna drop it, Emmmmma."

He'd forgotten her name for a moment. Too focused on proving her wrong through the stupor of green and smoke and green smoke. Prove her wrong he did: all those teacups (at least he thought (hoped) they were) were arranged juuuuust so on that countertop, ready to be filled with the potion of ascension they would consume to commune with the Gods. Manuel never considered himself a person obsessed with particulars... except when it came to food, and drink by extension. Even the cups were set up in this neat little parallel way. Grinning, he mumbled to himself leaning on an empty section of kitchen counter nearby.

"Best in the *world.* GOAT of carrying weed teacups."

[SharkyTGirl185]

“The good shit, fucking hell, I’ll show you guys the good shit.”

Bissette mumble as he swayed back and forth, hearing the hissing of the tea pot, and the Frenchman immediately grabs the kettle by wrapping his hands around the body instead of grabbing the handle, lifting it up. He didn’t feel the pain, waddling over to where the tea cups were as he began to pour them out into the tea cups “Grab your cup everyone! And careful it’s hot!”

[Deblod100]

"What do you mean if the water is boiling...? Didn't you turn on the stove?"

Shit, now Emma didn't know. She glanced down at the stovetop where the kettle was, but she didn't see any flames. Or did she? Were her glasses missed up? She didn't want to use a napkin or rag to clean them.

Emma thought about doing something stupid by removing the kettle and leaning towards the stovetop to see if there were any flames, but she was lucky that the kettle started to hiss. Chester was the first to grab it, but she didn't realize that he wasn't grabbing the handle. It was probably better to wait until she noticed the burns to try to do something about it. She needed to get this tea, if Bissette keeps saying that it's the good stuff. Emma waited until Chester poured the hot water into all of the tea cups, so she can nab one for herself.

"Should we sit down for this...?" Emma asked Bissette and Marino.

[FlockOfHens]

"Yeah, yeah... Do whatever..." Marino said joyously, grabbing a cup from Bissette. He slowly took a sip of the tea and finally got a new taste of the new flavor. It has a rich aroma with a hint of vanilla as the hot liquid burns his tongue. The warming sensation filled his throat, tasting a bit of Bissette's weed. If he could get any more high, he'd be flying off the ground. But there was something off about the tea itself, and it wasn't about the weed.

"Kinda tastes... like bitter..."

[LYourLocalAutist]

"Yesssssshh yeysh yesh..."

He slurred with wide grin and wide eyes as he watched the concoction take shape before him. Mixture of the good stuff(tm) and a drink he'd otherwise never touch in his life. There was absolutely, absolutely nothing that could go wrong with this auspiciously perfect idea (perfect because it was his (weed confidence raaah et cetera)). Quick as his current dulled sense would allowed him, he snatched up a cup for himself right when presented with the option to do so, wobbled over back to his throne (the sofa) with as much care as he could muster, and took that gulp.

COUGH

Naaaaaaaasty.

"Naaaaaaaasty."

Too much grass down his throat. He knew it was gonna hit soon and they were gonna see gods and everything but for now it was just garbage weed water on his tongue. His eyes squinted and his nose scrunched up as he stared the cup down like it was evil (it was.)

"Whose... whose idea was this?"

...He forgot.

[SharkyTGirl185]

“Ahh shut up ya’ pansy. Just force it down-oh oh, OH! OW! FUCK!” Chester screams as he finally felt the burning from the kettle on his palms, dropping it on the ground.

It was an absolute miracle the kettle didn’t shatter, just landing and rolling on the ground with a bit of the weed tea concoction spilling from the mouth of the kettle onto the floor. Bissette jumped back, yelling in pain and flailing his arms “God! Fucking damn it! Why did you guys let me grab it! ENFOIREÈ!”

[Deblod100]

Those burns on Chester's hands might require a good soak under some cold water in the sink, though. Emma was about to grab herself a cup, until Chester dropped the kettle from having burned hands. Emma watched it fall to the kitchen floor, some of the water spilled from the mouth of it, forming a puddle.

"Chester, you're the idiot who grabbed it... They teach you that at home economics." Emma still feel too wobbly. The weed was still well in her system to get a solid stance. "Get a bandage or something. Soak it with something." Emma didn't seem to be aware of the puddle in front of her.

Now here's a little equation in safety.

An intoxicated Emma Drakenberg-West + spilled water puddle on the kitchen floor + a stovetop that's still on = ...

"Oh no... OH NO NO NO NO NO-"

It would've been funny for a major incident to occur, but the cosmic powers to be demanded an intervention for a fate of one young lady is meant to occur much sooner.

Emma was about to step forward-

[FlockOfHens]

Yup, it tasted way more bitter than he thought. Remember when he thought about the taste of vanilla and shit? Scratch that, the aftertaste overpowered everything. Somehow, it was able to bring down his buzz quite a bit.

"Mañana... didn't you say-" Before he could finish his sentence, someone dropped the kettle on the floor. Steaming hot water splattered all over the kitchen, even on Marino's legs. The burning pain caused him to drop his tea in shock. "Fucking dammit, that hurts dumbass!" Marino stepped away before hitting his back on the fridge. Unknown to him, a ceramic jar filled with pasta was placed way too close to the edge of the fridge door.

The jar fell on his head and landed on the floor, breaking open the scattered fusilli. Marino slipped and fell over the kitchen floor.

[LYourLocalAutist]

Manuel retracted his tongue from its "blech" station in the facial expression formation which was disgust as he regarded the tea once more. He took a little bit of time, carefully considering exactly what he'd just allowed to enter his temple of a body. He let it cool for a little bit, then took another sip. Then another. Gears were turning through the fog in his mind. Something was there. Besides the bitterness. Despite it. Somewhere in there, sinking into his palette, there was a deep and earthy taste, nearly savoury in the most drawn-out way which could be imagined. The cannabis dissolved itself into the liquid and only intensified this dark umami, the heat of which made its way down his throat and throughout his body in a way which warmed his bones and brought a small smile to his intoxicated face. Herbs upon herbs, all unified in one goal; to contribute to a taste, and to calm the man down. With the effect of the drink on him, he felt like he could sink right through the sofa, relaxed as he was by the utter uniqueness of this taste. An acquired one, certainly; but undeniably perfect in execution which he had once doubted. An epiphany came unto him as he craned his neck back up and let the darkly delicious suffusion pierce his senses through one last sip. There were no Gods; they were unneeded. Their miracles laid entirely in the hands of men, and all was well on Earth.

Some ruckus was coming from the kitchen.

"This stuff's actually pretty good." He called out.