[i]"Mary, please."[/i]

Mary felt as Kanoa's hand lightly brushed against her own, her hands were soft, similar to the fleeting purple haze that hung in the air. Perhaps it was the unexpected touch that slowed her down, that mundane sensation of a slight connection made with another human being that filled Mary's numbed senses to a climax they hadn't reached in what, in that instant, felt like eons, lifetimes. Like it was an organic pleasure that had been denied her by forces unseen, but in that microsecond, that permanent quantum point in space-time, they had fucked up. A bunch of high schoolers getting together to talk about ghosts hadn't been part of their plans.

[i]That was silly.[/i]

Still. The cool tingling phantom touch of Kanoa's hand remained. Had it really been that long since she had touched someone else? That couldn't be it-- she touched plenty of people! She hugged her mother all the time! She was a groupie, she went to concerts! She might not have actively sought out the touch of others as her peers might had, but it was certainly present.

What was it then, that made this human contact fill her with the oddest sense of ecstasy? It wasn't planned. It wasn't something [i]she[/i] had accounted for. In a life, filled with miraculously random events that felt completely planned and numbing, leading only to an unsatisfying early grave. This was the first event in recent memory that had reminded her that she was... alive.

In the violet fogged darkness of her mind, voices, masculine and feminine, seemed to whisper something she couldn't make out; [color=DimGray][i]'You are [s]impure.[/s]'[/i][/color]

[i]Alright.[/i]

It was pleasant. Incredibly so. The moment hung, her brain had to fire off so many chemical impulses at once that time dilated to feel like an entire existence could pass it through. Why? Did Mary just had a thing for Asian women? 

Smoke was clearing, much faster than usual-- a shrieking laugh, she could almost feel his horns as he spoke; [color=DimGray][i]'An impure whore, [s]you should make her yours.[/s]'[/i][/color]

[i]Nah.[/i]

It didn't matter. She desperately wanted to feel it again, so much so she almost wanted to reach out and grab Kanoa's hand as time seemed to resume, just to feel the firing of the thousands of neurons again. It was something so very painfully overlooked and normal and completely new to her. As her other senses caught up with reality, however, Mary was able to stop herself. 

She was back home, Mom was cooking something, she seemed to breath a sigh of relief as the stove hissed with a stir-fry; [color=DimGray][i]'That's Mommy's good little girl, [s]save yourself for mother.[/s]'[/i][/color]

[i]Shit, dude. That was new.[/i]

Time was back! Or, Mary's perception had returned to the same rate of temporal perception as it had been moments before the Touch. Kanoa had already gently confiscated the blunt for Mary's vicegrip when she checked back in. Cory, in a display of courage that the Hero of Time himself would envy, slid past Mary. She recognized him, he was one of the hot guys in one or two of her classes-- and the other guy, the one with the eye patch, she recognized him. Because eye patch. Mary couldn't help but laugh a little inside, 'Your mom.' Ha. His expression was priceless.

She deprived them of her focus, though, instead investing all in Kanoa. Mary allowed her expression to become neutral as she observed Kanoa; she moved fluidly, as if rehearsed, and she spoke with a similar practiced elocution, if not slightly unsure. She had put out her blunt. Mary practically hung on each word she said, internalizing the more serious implications, beyond being hexed by a mere brush of hands.

"M-my herbs..."

She still allowed herself to mourn the loss of her herbal perfection. It had just the right combination of... everything... and it was rolled so pro era.

RIP in pieces, joint-01.

"You didn't even give it a chance to become a roach..." She muttered, mere seconds after Kanoa had finished. She became downcast in mourning, lamenting the fact that she didn't have a 40 to pour out for the loss of her kingdom plantae homies. She shook her head, "Gone too soon..."

For the first time since Big Boss had barged in, her eyes rested upon the crumpled up note. Quickly crouching down, she retrieved it.

[i]Huh.[/i]

It was odd. It was the same note she had gotten, but different, in a way. It hadn't been doctored. This raised many questions for Mary, this whole experience was beginning to do that. It was curious...

[i]"Spooky ghosties, missing people, and bathing in the blood of the beast..."[/i]

Mary caught August's looked and returned it with a weak smirk of her own. She returned her attention to the note while August continued to speak. For Mary, it seemed her [i]'Maybe'[/i] had become a lazy [i]'Sure'[/i] her interest was piqued, for one reason or another. She listened to Azalea Banks and Witch House, smoked herbs for their Voodoo traits, and hung out in graveyards. This type of creepy shit was right up her alley.

Mary could swear she felt some... energy?

[i]Curiouser and curiouser... also fucking silly.[/i]

[i]"And besides, we can use this as a little bonding trip so the folks who decided to avoid answering anything about themselves can open up or choose to leave."[/i]

[i]#shotsfired[/i]

[i]"So, on top of all the other questions, where exactly is the spot he went missing from?"[/i]

"I think..." Mary spoke up, in a not quite deadpan voice, "...I think remember seeing something about it in last week's paper? Like, if that doesn't work we could also just talk to his parents?" Mary shrugged, pulling off her headphones in the process, "I'm not..." she pulled out another blunt, now known as joint-02, "I'm not exactly sure what I am? In regards to seeing the ghosts I visit at the graveyard..." She lit the blunt, "I know I don't have any special ability. But like..." Her glare went from August and the newly formed club to Kanoa, "I've always felt this darkness, like this really intense presence-- it's been eating away at me for as long as I can remember, just present, growing inside and outside around me, and..."

"And..." Mary's voice began to crack, her eyes held glimmers of genuine fear, and for the first time since she had entered the room, her voice carried a sincerity with it, "It wants control. Absolute control. Of me and the direction my life goes in. And I'm so scared of it, it wants me. It wants me and it wants to kill me. And I am so scared of death by this thing." She allowed herself to be completely vulnerable to this group of strangers, "They... It... I don't know, but it's always just out of my view, just enough to stay hidden in my smoke. My Mom gets mad if I talk about it, and I can't talk to anyone else about it..." Mary sighed in closing. She felt a relief at getting that all out. She felt a certain catharsis.

Mary took advantage of the silence to begin puffing out more purple smoke. 

"Anyway," She started again, "This does seem like the pilot episode of some 90's sitcom about a ragtag group of kids who solve fringe crimes. Or something. I'm in. Unless you guys are racists. I don't fuck with racists." She had already begun pacing around the room again, as she stopped, she blew a stream of smoke on Jackson.

"What? It's laced with lavender. It helps purify the body and remove bad spirits from the air! [b]You're welcome![/b]"