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[sup][b][color=fada5e]INTERACTIONS[/color][/b]
[color=fada5e]〘[/color] Julius Gardener, Venus Alexander, Sasha Mikhailovna, Lou Liu [color=fada5e]〙[/color][/sup][/center]
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[indent][indent][color=fada5e][b]“Oh my God, you’re really eating it.”[/b][/color] He murmurs, equal parts appalled and fascinated as Julius wolfs down half the anchovy-feta-mushroom abomination, seemingly without chewing. Ziggy would never dream of putting something like that in his mouth; not even when the munchies came a-knockin’, but how did the saying go again? Different strokes for different folks? Sometimes, you just had to accept that different people had their own, particular tastes and respect them, even if said tastes included a fondness for disgusting pizza.

Like a starving soldier caught in the trenches, Ziggy begins to take count of their “supplies”—a tray of pot brownies, a half-opened bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and a pizza from Carmelo’s that he sure as hell wasn’t going to touch. Turning slowly to Venus, he shoots her a look that can best be described as [i]crestfallen[/i], with all the drama and theatrics typically associated with such a word. [color=fada5e][b]“Rations are low. Looks like we’re gonna have to starve till reinforcement arrives.”[/b][/color]

He spends the next few minutes just listening in, following each separate thread of conversation as well as he’s able to. Vaguely, he registers yet another addition to their party soon after. The girl seemed to know Venus, and Ziggy greets her with a nod. Right now, however, he’s more concerned with finding a better position on the couch. As he twists this way and that trying to make himself comfortable, he ends up nearly supine against the cushions, nearly falling asleep before a new voice jolts him upright once again. 

[color=fada5e][b]“Fuck, dude. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”[/b][/color] Ziggy chides, laughing a little to show that it was all in good humor. When he smooths a hand over the left side of his chest, he feels the telltale [i]badump-badump[/i] of a heartbeat against his ribs. [i]Well, the ol’ ticker’s still working, at least[/i]. Still, he had to admit that the new guy’s very loud and very sudden exclamation had made his heart skip a beat, maybe even two. Weed always did make him a little jumpy.

And then, before Ziggy is even able to react, the new guy has already devoured half a brownie, with the remaining half disappearing just as quickly. He blinks, a little stunned by the chocolate-stained grin that greets him next.

[color=fada5e][b]“I thought you said you didn’t like it.”[/b][/color] He points out, raising a quizzical eyebrow. [color=fada5e][b]“I slaved over a hot oven for this, you know.”[/b][/color]

If he was anyone else, or any less stoned than he was, Ziggy would’ve probably been offended by Lou’s blunt criticism of his culinary prowess. But right now, everything felt light and fuzzy like a cloud, which he took as a sign that the brownie was working; and there really wasn’t any use in fretting over something so inconsequential, was there? Besides, he’s always been sort of a pacifist, and the last thing he wanted was to start a fight with someone he just met.

[color=fada5e][b]“Ah, who am I kidding? These taste like ass.”[/b][/color] Ziggy concedes, then giggles, actually [i]giggles[/i] like a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. Thankfully, he’s in too good a mood to pay it much mind, though he suddenly finds himself overwhelmed by the urge to say something about Lou’s chocolate-smeared grin. Not dissimilar to a fish out of water, Ziggy opens and closes his mouth a few times before curling his lip and pointing to his own teeth.

[color=fada5e][b]“I, uh, think you’ve got something in your teeth there, buddy.”[/b][/color][/indent][/indent]
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