<blockquote>ooc. Tessera 16th, 81382. Private for lionteeth. ic. The clocks stopped at exactly 9:43 PM. Attrius was bent over in a Bhim back-alley, but his kneeling had absolutely nothing to do with prayer. He held a long strip of thick paper before him, lined with a fine white powder. Dearest coke, my old friend, he thought, a broad, wolfish smile splitting his face. It was a little awkward, with his septum, but he lowered one nostril to the paper and snorted up a line, then two more, emptying the little baggie tucked into the pocket of his drainpipe jeans. Immediately, the cocaine spread its warm, feathery fingers of warmth through his body, drawling through his veins and spine and enfolding him in a cocoon of utter bliss, baring moon-carved teeth in a feral grin. "Oh, fuck – “ he breathed, smiling, eyes half-lidded and glazed with supreme content. He crumpled on the pavement into a twist of oil-black and blinking lightning eyes, his bare, corset-pierced back arched in ecstasy against a cobblestoned, graffiti –strewn wall, his breathing stuttered and ratcheted. And in a mutilated, sing-song voice, he softly began to rhyme: "Welllll, the high school kids are all fucked up, touchin’ each other, ohmygooood, yeah, forty ounces was never enough – we wanna pass out in your yard, we wanna pass out…"</blockquote>
