Oddly enough, VII was closer than Madame Lily's, so Pickles led the way into the room, holding the door for Remy, "Interest you in anything?" The way he said it could only mean one thing. Illicit and wholly dubious narcotics.
He snorted softly, shaking his head. "Pretty damn, most of it, though I'm guessin' what you need right now is somethin' that'll get yer mind off crap and put you in a good mood." The room of Pickles was a veritable treasure trove of pharmaceuticals. He went to the desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a couple pills. "Take two, call me in the mornin'." He said, handing the small, round, hand-pressed pills with tiny smiley faces on their flat sides.
"Those are pretty weak by my standards, so they should suit you just fine." Which is to say, they'd take the edge off the doldrums and make Remy more relaxed. (Though the narration would like to state that any more relaxed, and Remy'd be a puddle. Just sayin'.)
(Yes, yes he would, but at least he'd be a pretty puddle!)
"Dunno." He said with a shrug and another small smirk, "Pretty weak by y'standards migh' still be 'nough t'kill livestock." What? He'd heard rumors okay?
He chuckled and dropped himself onto the bed, kicking off his boots and resting his head on the mass of pillows. "I'm pretty sure you'll be fine, dude. I tried those and they did nothin' fer me. Like candy without the sugar rush." He stretched out and watched Remy with a languid smile.
Remy, being Remy, shrugged as he took them both before sprawling making himself comfortable across the foot of the bed, head cushioned on one folded arm, looking utterly and completely at ease.
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His brow arched at the question, and the smug came right back again, "D'pends on how likely it is t'knock me on m'ass I s'pose."
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The room of Pickles was a veritable treasure trove of pharmaceuticals. He went to the desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a couple pills. "Take two, call me in the mornin'." He said, handing the small, round, hand-pressed pills with tiny smiley faces on their flat sides.
"Those are pretty weak by my standards, so they should suit you just fine." Which is to say, they'd take the edge off the doldrums and make Remy more relaxed.
(Though the narration would like to state that any more relaxed, and Remy'd be a puddle. Just sayin'.)
Reply
"Dunno." He said with a shrug and another small smirk, "Pretty weak by y'standards migh' still be 'nough t'kill livestock." What? He'd heard rumors okay?
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So, uh, default setting still.
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