Kurloz smiled softly as she set to work, as she was obviously practiced at this sort of thing. At least he wasn’t bringing something alien to her to help them think. Of course, he was hit by a wave of confusion when she spoke. Sure, he’d taken the initiative to brush up on Japanese basics before coming, but even this sounded kinda like something some 24 year old Pennsylvanian juggalette had ran through Google Translate a few times. He looked her up and down once more, mind churning the words in his brain. He had caught a few syllables that roughly translate to a comparative - an “if this then that” statement - but it was posed with the inflection of nearly a question. That alongside her lilting, dulcid tone, suggested that she was making a joke some inappropriate joke about drugging her into sex. With a smile, he shrugged, but a soft bite of his lower lip and a sultry glance suggested a strong “yes”.
By the time he offered her a hit from her joint, he was already almost done packing his favorite bowl with his blend, so he politely gave her an insisting “you first” gesture. Her herb might’ve been a bit stronger, but Kurloz marketed a special product he’d never seen before. As an aficionado of foreign teas, Kurloz had learned to mix certain spices into his doses to dumb down their ridiculous stench and give each hit a smooth, mouth-tingling taste. It was more of an experience than just smoking oneself out. The mix he’d brought was a oolong chai, just a bit of bite, but relaxing. Once he’d lit it up and taken a long drag, he offered her a trade with his half-cocked grin.
And, of course, he supposed he’d sweeten the deal. With his pipe still outstretched in offer, he leaned away back into his bag, grabbing a tightly lidded Tupperware container. He plopped the hunk of plastic onto the table before them, popping the lid open to reveal a decadent block of fudge - iced brownies, still steaming lightly. He’d essentially pulled them from the oven and into the container just before he left, and he knew that if there was one weakness to a stoner, it was a warm brownie. He flashed her his sultry look once more, confident that he came offering more than she expected of him.
With a shrug, she decided almost immediately that she just didn’t care if he took the first hit. His loss. The lighter blazed to life, lighting the tip of her blunt. Inhaling sharply, she took a deep hit, leaning back slightly in her seat. The first hit was always the hardest, but it wasn’t bad enough for her to start coughing, which was good. If this guy was in with the competition -- and judging by their shared last name, he very well may be -- she didn’t want to show any weakness.
Damara arched a brow when she was offered a trade. She made a displeased face at the pipe, scoffing before rolling her eyes and taking it from him. In turn, she offered him the joint. Once the trade was complete, she made another face at the pipe before lifting it to her lips and lighting it for a hit. This time she did cough, if only for the surprise of whatever the hell this was packed with -- it certainly wasn’t what she was used to.
“これは何ですか？” she demanded, waving the pipe at Kurloz. Before he had any opportunity to snatch it back, though, she pulled it up against her chest, taking another experimental hit from the pipe she’d been offered. “なぜそれがこの方法を味わうのですか？” Her expression was completely befuddled as she stared at the still-smoking pipe in her hands, gaze shifting between it and Kurloz.
That was when he offered the brownies. As soon as she saw them, she knew she was doomed. Biting her lip softly, she glanced over at her mints on the table. She should really be responsible, but... Well, fuck it. She was in the process of making a new friend. This was a special occasion. Setting his pipe down on the table, she went for one of the brownies, nearly inhaling the thing whole. “聖なるくそ！私は恋にだと思います。”
