Welcome to Gaia! ::

While on the dance floor, Morgan Everett couldn’t help but notice a few people lighting up over in a dark corner. They were huddled together, trying to act inconspicuous, but given the state of half the club patrons, nothing could have been more obvious. And nothing could have peaked the girl’s interest more. It had been a while since the redhead had gotten high, off of anything, and she was feeling in the mood. Monkey see, monkey do.

Wandering up the group, she batted her eyes at the closest male. “Any to ******** no. Sorry darling, but this s**t is too good to pass on. Try her, the blonde.” The man pointed out Kess, just as she was heading out. Morgan caught a glimpse of her short hair.

“Pixie?”

“Yeah.”

Darting off, Morgan pushed her way back across the dance floor and out the door. It took her a moment to adjust from the pulsing sound of dance beats to the quiet street. She didn’t see anyone around. The faint smell of smoke caught her attention though, just around the corner there was a small group of smokers and Kess.

Morgan strutted up to Kess, and with a knowing expression said, “I heard you have some goods.”

“A young Ron Howard with a botched nose job.” What she had meant by that was that the man, who told her to ask Kess, was a red headed hipster who dressed like an extra in Happy Days. Morgan ran her hand over the bridge of her own nose and made a tweaking gesture to signify that the hipster’s nose was broken.

Morgan herself was not really in the habit of buying her own drugs. She was social user, and for the most part all her experience with illicit substances was at the insistence and offerings of someone else. The social etiquette of buying off the street or from dealers was pretty much lost on her.

The redhead was feeling playful, but not likely to give up . “A man by the name of Back Pocket?”

The redhead wasn’t too surprised by the empty pocket turn-out. It was a guess, and a bad one at that, but she wasn’t going to give up until she was blissfully under the influence of something. If that meant going back to the bar and paying for her own drinks, that was what she’d have to do.

“Of course I have money.” Seriously, who does have money? Morgan opened the silver clutch purse that was hanging off a strap on her wrist. Rooting through, she found some loose change and a 20 dollar bill. Turned out Morgan was the one who didn’t have money. Likely because she had spent a large chunk of the cash she had earlier in the day on supplies and essential oils.

That gave her an idea. “I have this,” Morgan held out the twenty, “but if that’s not enough, we could work out some kind of trade.”

“I make bath salts and my own face masks. You look like you could use a good facial.” Morgan didn’t quite mean it as an insult, but she was noticing Kess’s skin looked a little dry.

“I have fresh ingredients at my place. Regular spas can be expensive. My masks are just as good.” Was Morgan really equating her own home spa services to that of a professional? Why yes, she was. The girl was confident in her budding abilities at refreshing dull skin.

A satisfied smile spread across Morgan’s lips. Victory! Well, sort of. Her prize would have to wait, but the girl was happy that she was correct in pursuing asking Kess. Waiting one night or two to have a good time was worth it. “Excellent! Tomorrow sounds like a plan. I’ll cook something up just for you.” Morgan winked, what was exactly implied in that wink only she could really know. Likely it just meant that the redhead was already brainstorming which ingredients to use to make something fun for the blonde; something worthy of an exchange.

Morgan dipped a hand into her purse and pulled out a tiny piece of paper and a pen. Quickly, she scribbled her address and phone number on it, then handed it over to the blonde. “Let me know when you want to get together.”