Aroc threw open the front door with a fervor that left its thin mismatched planks shuttering against the nails and frame barely holding them in place. Wasting not a moment he caught the shabby door with a quick toe, and flicked it back shuttering against the wall again so hard this time that it bounced back and slammed itself shut behind him.
"Fuck!" a pile of rough looking deer hide blankets on the floor of the dark, one room shack squirmed and groaned in protest of the sudden outburst. "Fuck that was loud" the female voice groaned again, this time with a bit more composure. A few lonely beams of morning light crashed through gaps around the shanty door, illuminating suspended dust and landing squarely on a pale, angular face that was now emerging from the hide blankets and mess of wild black hair that followed. Aroc made no move closer, but instead stood silhouetted in early morning light and took in the scene as the rest of Zhao's robed figure crept out of the makeshift bed and began to stretch- pale arms and legs like little ivory needles jutting out of her flowing midnight purple robe. Their features were similar, the usual high cheekbones and angular chin that were standard Quartz Kingdom traits, and though hair color varied wildly across the kingdoms- their residence on the outskirts of Amethyst City meant Zhao's jet black hair no was surprise either. Even the dark purple flecks in Aroc's black hair were normal here, though far less common than pure black. These flecks that could barely be seen glistening now in the low light of their shed apartment were a source of both pride and shame for Aroc. They were an undeniable sign that somewhere in his gnarled family tree there were traces of the blood of Amethystine royalty. He knew it came from his mother's side as her hair bore the same flecks, but he hadn't spoken to her or the rest of his clan for years and had no interest in reconnecting for a meeting on the genealogy of bastards.
"Well-" His lazy gaze was cut short by a piercing inquisition from Zhao who was suddenly much more lucid than she had just been, "come on, did you get it or not?"
Aroc just grinned, entertained at the amount of piss and vinegar someone who only came up to his shoulder could conjure up so quickly. He paused for dramatic effect, and after another frustrated cry of "Aroc!!" from Zhao, he produced a small baggy of greywhite powder that sparkled silver as he tossed it to the messy haired girl. She turned the bag over in her hands, frowning.
"Look" Aroc started, "it's all there. The weight's correct he ju-"
"He just nothing!" Zhao cut him off, voice beginning to raise as a fire lit inside her. "You said it was supposed to be crystals, not dust! So either your guy is twice your size or you're just idiot enough to accept our shit like this. Which is it?"
"He said he sat on it trying to avoid the Quartz guard patrol on the way over!" Aroc blurted out. "Look, I know he's lying, I'm not dumb, I just…"
"So he must be pretty fuckin big, then. Well next time I'll come along and tell him I don't care how jacked he is, his ass isn't big enough to crush crystals. ...And if it is then he's in the wrong profession"
There was, of course, one other explanation for Aroc accepting crushed product. As it were, Aroc's 'guy' wasn't a guy at all. She came alone on boat from the Rose Quartz Palace once a month to trade smuggled goods in Amethyst City where there was a high demand, and she was the only secret he kept from Zhao. They knew far too much about each other, if Zhao found out she would read his body language in an instant and the endless arrow barrage of teases for having the hots for his dealer would be brutal. No, best to keep her a secret for now. Not like he had much of a chance with her anyway.
"Uhhh, yeah. Huge. Come on Z, it still works. Still weighs right. Are we getting high or not?"
"Say no more, cowboy." Zhao mused, suddenly much more content with the situation. She stretched again, arms far above her head and back arching as she let out a rough yawn, then made her way across the room to Aroc who had begun stoking up a fire from embers. Her stride was long despite her short legs, and with her ornate robe and sleepy half braided-half bird's nest hair she somehow toed a jagged line between elegance and disaster. Maybe she was the one with royal blood after all, Aroc had thought to himself with a smirk as he blew on the small ring of stones that served as a fire pit. He arranged small ashy rocks like a table, with a large flat flagstone above the flame. He was methodical, he was careful to build his small hearth properly so that the flagstone would be heated evenly. Zhao was beginning to visibly fidget, so Aroc thought up something for her to focus her energy on lest it boil over again.
"The place is filling up with smoke, Z. Can you open the window?"
She got up slowly and edged over to the window, her sarcastic glare fixed on Aroc the whole way, then pulled back tattered paper and bamboo blinds to reveal broken glass and night sky.
"Oh, you want me to open /this/ window?" A steady stream of smoke now making its way past her out into the night.
"That is the one, yes." Aroc said more to himself, punctuated by a dry cough he failed stifling. He was more focused on his fire, and more importantly on remembering what every detail he'd read about the substance he'd procured for them.
"You're sure this is it, right? I'm not trying to get hooked on some moon crystal sketchy shit, you said this would be…" Zhao was trailing off in Aroc's ear.
"I've been researching this shit for weeks in the Great Library, it's the right stuff." He responded bluntly, still more focused on the fire than Zhao. "I don't understand why this needs to be so complicated, can't I just snort it?"
"Not if you want to get high," Aroc was now pouring a small vial out onto the rock which began to steam and bubble violently "Ready?"
"Why do they call them spores anyway, it looks like crystals. Crushed crystals thanks to your sketchy friend" Zhao was still nervously chattering as she poured the chunky greywhite powder into the boiling solution. Smoke began billowing out in huge clouds, and by the time Aroc could get out "it's some shamanic shit Z, I don't know just inhale" the one room shack was already nearing completely full of smoke. He did know, he knew everything there was to know about the "spores" and the Casidominae fungus that they grew from. He knew the name was a misconception based on the truth that these crystal structures did come from a mushroom, but centuries of suppression had limited general knowledge in the plant and now we're here with this goofy name. He also knew he didn't have time to say all that before they were on the moon. He exhaled everything out of his lungs and took a big breath in, wafting the billowing smoke toward himself as Zhao followed suit.
3… He began counting backwards. What he had told his friend wasn't completely untrue either, it really was used for shamanic rituals back in the day.
2… his body was starting to feel weightless but constricted at the same time. Like he was 20 meters under water. The so called spores were actually a defensive mechanism for the mushroom, crystalline structures of dried secretion that grew from underneath the cap down to the ground. When the stone dragons that used to roam the planet would eat these mushrooms, the secretions would react with their saliva to form the hallucinogenic smoke Aroc and Zhao were inhaling now.
1… his head was swelling to the size of the room. 100 meters deep under water. The ancient shamans of the Quartz Kingdom were friends of the dragons, and believed that rituals using this smoke would give them clairvoyance and when properly prepared could open the gates in your mind to see to the future or past with clarity. Now the geode dragons were long gone, smashed for the priceless crystals growing inside them. That wasn't going to stop these stoners though, and Aroc with a little luck and ingenuity had been able to create his own catalyst to mimic the dragon spit.
Exhale. . .
The room was closing in, folding into impossible origami. Aroc gasped for another breath but only more smoke filled his lungs. Smoke, color, sound, was all blending together as Aroc fell further into himself. As his vision faded away he saw his friend, miles away now, collapsing toward the fire. Using everything he had he lunged, closing the distance but knocking the flagstone off the fire and spilling the precious drugs. There they laid, slumped, squirming slightly.
