Good man. [kavinsky obviously comes from money, and that's all the more apparent by the fact they've been doing ketamine off the sleek surface of an ipad. when lip sits down, the bulgarian boy pulls his bag out again. it had a false bottom, which is fucking ridiculous, but probably better than eating pills that he'd stuffed up his rectum, per the numerous jokes kavinsky was telling as he ground up the pill before.
rich kids. even has a grinder built for grinding, cylindrical and metal, some dubious powdery reside still clinging around inside. he drops in the capsule and goes to town, his sharp-knuckled hands expedient and practiced with the implement, something almost hypnotic about the repetitive sound. it'd fit right into one of those youtube videos hipsters make, that asmr shit, if you took out the illegal drug references.
todd rolls onto his side, giving them his back. and starts to unzip his pants, rather audibly.]
What're you in for, sweetheart?
[kavinsky smiles cheshire, and taps the powder out onto the ipad. he's using the rehab center's own business card to cut it up into lines, slouching down so low his spine folds up like a nightmare of scoliosis.] Mom on your case?
no subject
rich kids. even has a grinder built for grinding, cylindrical and metal, some dubious powdery reside still clinging around inside. he drops in the capsule and goes to town, his sharp-knuckled hands expedient and practiced with the implement, something almost hypnotic about the repetitive sound. it'd fit right into one of those youtube videos hipsters make, that asmr shit, if you took out the illegal drug references.
todd rolls onto his side, giving them his back. and starts to unzip his pants, rather audibly.]
What're you in for, sweetheart?
[kavinsky smiles cheshire, and taps the powder out onto the ipad. he's using the rehab center's own business card to cut it up into lines, slouching down so low his spine folds up like a nightmare of scoliosis.] Mom on your case?