DMT

Lois Lane blinked. She vaguely recalled hearing about that, but wasn't exactly sure when or where.

"Dimethyltryptamine," Angelica Blaze said, a small baggie of white powder emerging from her drawer. "It's a naturally occurring mild psychoactive substance. Rapid onset, intense effects, but short duration. Normally used by shamans down in South America. Think of it as LSD without all the hippie baggie or bad trips."

The reporter took the baggie from Blaze's hand and stared at the white powder dubiously. It was ground very fine, so that she couldn't see individual crystals. For all she knew it could be sugar, or salt...or cocaine or dish detergent. Her mouth set in a hard line. Doing ****, especially ones from someone you'd just met, was the peak of idiocy...

But how else am I going to find the women? Lois wondered. Maybe if I just do a little it won't affect me too badly.

"So how do I...do it?" Lois asked. It felt silly to ask that question.

"Well...you could snort it. Or I could tie off your arm and inject it into a vein." Blaze said. "Or if you'd like...I can make us some tea and you can drink it."

The reporter put the baggie back on the table. "Let's go with the tea."

Lois sat on the other side of the desk as the ****-dealing dickgirl quickly and efficiently set up a small gas burner, an old cast-iron teapot, and two small porcelain cups. There was almost something ritual-like in the way she crushed the fresh green leaves—which didn't look like any kind of tea that Lois had ever had—and placed them in cups. They sat staring at each other as the water slowly boiled.

Under cover of the desk, Lois wiped her palms on her pants. The whole idea of doing **** was upsetting to her...not really knowing what she was putting into her body, except that it was supposed to be some kind of hallucinogen.

"It's non-habit forming," Angelica said, as though to reassure her. "And non-toxic. Your body is designed to process this chemical. A clean, natural high."

"And when we've had our tea, I can see the women?" Lois said.

"By my name, I swear it," Blaze said...and there was something so serious in the way she said it, that Lois found herself believing her.

The pot began to steam, then whistle. With her bare hand, Angelica grabbed the cast iron handle and poured the boiling water into the cups. Lois frowned, sure that the woman should have burned herself...but no the hand was fine as she used a little spoon to measure out the white powder into the steaming cups. Stirred it gently.

The reporter grabbed the cup with three fingers. It was hot to the touch, the water dark now. Something about this was so familiar, as though she had heard about this ritual before...but where? Blaze smiled over her own cup as she brought it to her lips.