not_in_the_book: (Emo: Smoking)
Ronan Nolan ([personal profile] not_in_the_book) wrote in [community profile] fandomhighdorms2008-07-17 09:20 pm
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The Roof [of Smoking], Thursday Evening

It was strange being back in Fandom, even after almost two weeks since his return. He'd not been getting out much, really, so it felt good to get up to the roof.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, the first pack he'd bought in the past... Well, quite a long time. He usually didn't smoke alone, but something about the night just begged for one. So he opened the pack, slicing open the plastic cover with a fingernail (he really needed to get those cut), and tapped out one cigarette.

The spell to light it was easy enough -- calling heat was almost rudimentary, and, really, took almost less energy than pulling out a lighter, or striking a match. Breathing in, he let the smoke fill his lungs, and then released it with a sigh.

[Open like a roof, for anyone who'd have any reason to be up here! :D ]
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[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
"Sometimes," Katchoo allowed. "Then I remember that art supplies are frikkin' expensive. Sketchbooks aren't as good for self-control though."

[identity profile] not-a-mused.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, and my typewriter's vintage," Cal added. "Writer's block is hell, but not that bad. Gotta save all my money for this shit," he pointed out, lifting his hand, lifting his cigarette.

[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Vice," Katchoo intoned dryly. "It's hell on the wallet, innit?"

She knew damn well that Darcy had to have spent a hundred grand in cocaine a week, at least, and who the hell knew what all else. And here she was, scraping change for cheap cigarettes. Wasn't life awesome?

[identity profile] not-a-mused.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
"Could be worse," Cal said, shrugging again, with his thoughts unknowingly mirroring hers, about Zora, about Carmen, about Bob Presto. "And at least you can get cigarette without any hassle here. It's a simple pleasure to not have to insist that I'm eighteen."

Which he wasn't. Just ask the San Francisco police.

[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 02:17 am (UTC)(link)
"It's weird not getting shit for it when I buy a pack," Katchoo remarked after another long drag, and the thought that yes, there were vices that were even more costly, and not necessarily in dollars. "Almost makes me think I haven't earned 'em honestly."

[identity profile] not-a-mused.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
"No kidding," Cal agreed, flicking a little ash, poking it again with his toe once it settled, and he dragged in the next quietly before he commented, "You know, I don't think I know your name yet. I know you're in that living on your own workshop tomorrow, though I wasn't paying attention much last week."

Soap was now very distracting for him; sad, but true.

[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
Everyone had to have a distraction. Or ten. At the moment, Katchoo's happened to take the form of hoping like hell he really hadn't seen her being huggy in class. Sometimes answering a question straight was a better foil than dodging it.

"Katina," she said, thumb flicking against the butt of her cigarette in a rapid staccato, knocking off ash that hadn't yet had time to form.

[identity profile] not-a-mused.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
There was soap; his attentions had been finely hones on two other blondes, trying to figure out how much they'd paid Durden.

"Cal," he offered back, wondering about the particularly brutal love that her thumb was making to her cigarette. "Hi."

[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
She was watching him surreptitiously, and she couldn't see anything in his expression that hinted that he knew, but wasn't saying anything -- so the cigarette butt got a reprieve. It was probably a flick or two away from having broken, at that rate..

"Hey," Katchoo responded neutrally, and dug at the surface of the roof beneath her with the toe of one shoe. "Geez, it's like Philip Morris did the roofing job or something, up here."

[identity profile] not-a-mused.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
"It's nice to know," Cal commented, a very small amount of brightness in his otherwise dry tone, "that the school gets such high-hitting sponsors."

[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
"Heh." Katchoo lit a new cigarette off the old one, peered down over the edge of the roof, then flicked the used-up butt as far away as it would go. "Bet they left that detail out of the brochure."

[identity profile] not-a-mused.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
"I noticed they left a bit more than that out," Cal pointed out with a faint grin. It was interesting, really, watching Katina's little ticks, and he hoped he wasn't making his interest too obvious. "The same sorts of things I leave out on my calls home."

[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
Fair was fair; Katchoo had been listening to his speech patterns, only half conscious of doing so. "Glad I don't have that problem at least."

[identity profile] not-a-mused.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
"What? Calling home?" Cal asked, and then he shrugged. "I do it as mostly a courtesy. My mom deserves it after everything's she's gone through, and, besides, when she kicks off, it'd be nice to know about it when it happens, and not after the fact like with my dad."

[identity profile] thismaskiwear.livejournal.com 2008-07-18 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
Katchoo turned away, ostensibly to investigate a nonexistent bit of something stuck in her hair, but actually to hide the sudden flash of genuine emotion that had snuck up on her before she could suppress it.

"Yeah," she spoke up finally, still fiddling with a perfectly unencumbered lock of hair. Probably best not to mention the fact that the only reason she kept tabs on her family back in Houston at all was to know when her stepfather finally croaked, so she could -- well, she hadn't quite refined that plan yet, but the poem (http://www.strangersinparadise.com/lyrics/thismaskiwear.html) from sophomore English class was, in fact, not really hyperbole. "Guess I'm heading in now, though. Class tomorrow, all that, so . . ."
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