(Untitled)

[kingshit_lloyd]

Lloyd knew that he was no criminal mastermind. It was the sort of self-awareness that came naturally after the fifth petty theft arrest or so, and delusions of grandeur weren't really his thing. He hadn't considered the matter in depth at the time, but looking back, his prospects hadn't been exactly awesome; chances were, if it hadn’t been for the

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[saikamai]

Bert was on his way out of the kitchen, trying to decide whether he was going to bring the popkins he'd made all the way back to camp or maybe just cram one in his mouth and let Glue Boy steer, when he saw a disarmingly familiar figure down the hall. Said figure seemed to be attempting to squeeze himself and two extra-large sacks through the stairwell door as quickly as possible.

"Lloyd?" he called, just in time for the door to shut behind him. Bert walked briskly down the hall, slipped through the door and jogged up the stairs. Above his head, he heard the second door shut, followed by the sound of something rolling down the stairs toward him. He picked it up, puzzled over the label, and finished running up toward the roof.

And yeah, sure enough, it was Lloyd, still carrying those enormous bags and making like he was planning to take the ladder down.

"Hey," Bert inquired, tapping him on the shoulder. "What're these things?"

[kingshit_lloyd]

Lloyd jumped at the sudden touch, doing a sharp 180 turn with an expression that would have been no worse off if he'd simply had GUILTY AS FUCK: ARREST IMMEDIATELY written in magic marker on his forehead.

He let out a hard breath when he realized who it was.

"Jesus fuck, Bert, you scared the shit outta me," he muttered, but then he let himself relax, a little bit. Bert was with the IPD, sure, but if Lloyd could trust him with his life, he could trust him with some pot candy. "That's a pot-lollipop," he explained, sounding pretty dubious about the concept himself. "Like a joint, only I guess it's harder to smoke. You ken joint, right?"

[saikamai]

Lloyd turned around as if he'd laid a clawed, furry hand on his shoulder instead of his own rather normal one, and his jumpiness was enough to startle Bert.

"I scared you?" he asked, incredulous laughter in his voice. "I called for you downstairs but I guess you didn't hear me... what are you doing?" Bert trailed off, looking at the bags and the stuff scattered behind them on the roof from where one had burst a seam, then back to Lloyd and the tub of candy.

Bert had seen candy made before in the kitchens of Gilead, and of course it had been made in a pot, a great cast-iron beast filled with hot bubbling sugar. But then Lloyd started talking about a lollipop being difficult to smoke and he realized he was on the wrong track altogether, and thought he knew what he was talking about. It was impossible to live on the island for a few years and not ken pot, though Bert had never actually tried it himself. No, the muffinballs had been his first and last (well, most recent, anyway) foray into the weird, wonderful world of ingesting

[kingshit_lloyd]

"Well, yeah, sort of," Lloyd replied, sounding uncertain; his own uptake on the matter was far from lightning quick, but the labels were straightforward enough. "I don't know how it works, but I figure it can get you high same way a cigarette would. Might not look as cool, though."

He glanced up from the lollipop box, regarding Bert with a cautious frown. "Chief Ragin' Bull didn't give you some kind of special briefing 'bout it, did he?"

[saikamai]

"Vimes? No," Bert said, shaking his head. "I don't think he's even mentioned it. ...is that why you're doing this?" He looked around again, then back at Lloyd's face and realized that, yes, it was exactly why he was doing this.

His face grew suddenly serious-- serious if you were blind and had never met Cuthbert Allgood, anyway, with a smile struggling like mad to break free of the straight line he was trying to impose on his mouth-- and he started shaking his head.

"Sorry, son, but you're going to have to come with me," he said, in a voice that certainly never belonged to any Mid-World marshal; this was a movie-cop, complete with reflective sunglasses and blue uniform. "I can see it in the Times next week: Precocious Patrolman Pounces Pot Pilferer," he added, laughing, losing the impression totally. "Where are you taking all this?" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, still chuckling, and started to collect the various items that had tumbled out of the bag, keeping one eye on Lloyd as he waited for his answer.

[kingshit_lloyd]

Lloyd gave him a seriously fucking unamused stare. "Pilferer my ass. This is my rightfully owned weed, officer," he insisted righteously, sprinkling his own voice with a ethnic dash of redneck. "Present from the island gods them-very-selves. See, it even got my name on it." He lifted one bag to prove it, then dropped it with a sigh, his expression turning forlorn as he looked at the trail of weed products he'd apparently left behind.

"I don't know, man -- shame to get rid of it all, you know? It's not every day you find a batch of lollipops that can fly you over the moon and back." He hadn't really thought about where to put it; his priority had been to get the stuff out of the Compound without getting any cops on his ass -- not that he'd done such a great job there. "Maybe I could stash it in Jaye's trailer or something. Would be a natural enough habitat for it."

[saikamai]

"I dunno," Bert said, dumping a bunch of the dropped goodies into his gunna and stooping down for more. "You wouldn't want to leave it where you couldn't always keep an eye on it, right? And-- and why shouldn't you just keep it in your hut? It's yours, isn't it?"

"I mean--" He paused, walked back over to Lloyd and gathered up some slack in the corner of the bag to tie the torn fabric into a tight knot. Then, he eased it open and dropped the last few items back inside. "What does this stuff do?" Then, a funny look crossed his face. "Is it called devilweed? Ever, where you're from?"

[kingshit_lloyd]

"Devilweed?" Lloyd repeated, kind of digging the ring of it, in a perverse sort of way. "That's a real dramatic way of putting it, Bert. Why not just call it death-weed, or Grass of Doom? Would be subtler, that way, and less, I don't know... Reverend Goodwin's Shitty After School Special." He snorted, more amused than anything. "It's not heroin, for Man Jesus's sake. They might call it evil to scare off the kids, but all it does is knock reality a little bit sideways to make you appreciate it more. Hell, there's places they even use this stuff as medicine." He sounded particularly proud of that last part, as if dispensing of a well-rehearsed bit of trivia.

[saikamai]

Bert gawped, his expression going from offended to annoyed before he landed a playful punch on Lloyd's shoulder.

"I just asked--" But he wasn't done, so Bert rolled his eyes hugely and buttoned up until he was. "All right. I don't ken heroine either. And that's all devilweed does at first, knock reality sideways, but the more you smoke it, the worse it gets. It's addictive." Bert frowned at the label and the seven-pointed, star-like leaf depicted. "Though... no, it's not the same. Devilweed has a cloven leaf. Like a hoof. This one's kinda pretty," he said, looking considerably cheered. "And no one ever used devilweed as medicine. Besides, you've smoked plenty of this, right? And you're only a wee bit fucked up." He patted Lloyd's shoulder heartily then instinctively ducked his head and swerved a bit.

[kingshit_lloyd]

"Who ya callin' a wee bit fucked up?" Lloyd asked, his tone thuggish and his expression one of huge offense. He waited a beat, imagining a tumbleweed rolling across a desert road. "I'm plenty fucked up, Junior," he corrected smugly, adapting his I'm old and wise so you best listen up (and take some notes while at it) voice. "It's life experience that'll do that to you, not smokin' a bit of weed."

Then his demeanor returned to normal, his shoulders slumping a little as he shot Bert a grin. "Yeah, I've had my share. It works different for different people, I guess. Some folk don't take too well to it. Others take to it a little too well, if you catch my drift." It was good old Poke he was thinking of, and wishing he wasn't.

[saikamai]

Bert nodded, now convinced of two things: first, that it wasn't devilweed and second, that he and Lloyd were going to get this stuff back to his hut without incident so that he could find out just how well he took to it.

"All right. Anyway, I don't think you should leave it in Jaye's trailer. Let's just... bring it back to your hut? Or-- if you're really that nervous, we can bring it to mine. It's apples or pipkins to me," he said, shrugging. "Either way... " Bert scratched the back of his neck. "Maybe we should just go out the front door."