[color=lightskyblue]𝕎  𝕚  𝕝  𝕝  𝕠  𝕨[/color]

Willow has never once tried marijuana. And most likely, she never will. Her father’s not a fan of the stuff, but more importantly, the [i]smell[/i] is what drives her away from any notion of sampling it. ‘Dank’ does not sit well with the girl.

Helen is much more open-minded on it, however. Over the years, her extended usage of i’s and y’s in her messaging had become a telltale sign that she was high. Sometimes, it’s funny to watch. Other times, Willow just has to sit and wait for it to be over. It’s one of the few activities the two will never bond over. And now, it means they won’t be having a distinctly [i]meaningful[/i] conversation about the golem tonight.

Oh, well. Might be for the best. No one’s really here to [i]talk about things[/i], are they?

In the midst of the downstairs crowd, Willow ghosts up and ascends to the upper half of the house. What Helen failed to tell her was which room she was in, so Willow had to resort to checking them one by one. The Charles estate was somewhat labyrinthian to her.

She pokes her head through the floor of the nearest room on the upper half of the estate - a bathroom, as it turns out. There, she finds a young man hunched over a toilet, in the middle of some awful retching and heaving. Willow leaves right before he vomits into the toilet, unnoticed.

The second room Willow enters is a bedroom. Two students are on top of the bed, almost fully disrobed, kissing each other very [i]sloppily[/i]. Willow’s eyes widen as she quickly ducks back under the floor before she witnesses any further ‘action’. Thankfully, she goes unnoticed once again.

Finally, in the third room, she happens upon Helen, surrounded by a small assortment of other students, all on varying levels of high. The room is clouded by dim grey vapor. Willow rises up into the room proper, but does not recorporealize out of hesitance towards breathing any of the smoke in. She instinctively waves her hand in front of her face, despite the fact that it does nothing.

“Helen?” Willow asks in her ethereal voice, hovering a few feet away from her seated friend, bong in hand. “How are you feeling?”