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Worth 50,000: Day Twenty One - Send Up A Flare
Smoking is a terrible, horrible, no good habit. I am aware of this. And while I've never smoked cigarettes I did spend the better part of one of my college years smoking other things, which mostly landed me with lungs in an even worse state than they were when I started. People get really worried for you when you sound like you have bronchitis, guys. But all that said, I am kind of drawn to characters who smoke. Spike Spiegel smokes. As do Jean Havoc and Nicholas D. Wolfwood. The way they smoke can say things about them. The flare of the embers in the tip can send a small note of light into an unbearable darkness. And then there's the camaraderie. As Simon says in this week's Misfits, it's not fair that the smokers get all the breaks.
What horrible traits do your characters have, and what do they say about them?

Write. Comment. Repeat.
What horrible traits do your characters have, and what do they say about them?
Write. Comment. Repeat.
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It's chilly and slushy on the streets of Cambridge, but the cold air is almost a relief after the stifling interior of Charles' apartment. She's not sure if it was actually hot enough to make her sweat or if she only imagined it thanks to the combination of angry looks and awkward silences. Still, even the frigid breeze feels nice as she fumbles for her lighter and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. Behind her, she hears the whine of the door swinging open again. Second later, Erik joins her in leaning on the side of the building.
"Those are terrible for your health," Erik says. "It's really in your best interest that I confiscate them."
Angel digs the pack back out of her pocket.
"You can't just ask to bum one?" she asks skeptically, digging inside the crumpled pack to find another cigarette.
"No," he says, "because I think I'll need at least a dozen."
Angel snorts. "I hear you, man," she says, and tosses him her lighter. "You're really going to marry that guy? I mean, don't get me wrong, he's cute, but there's gotta be a better way to get a visa."
Erik shrugs.
"Probably," he says. "But, at the end of the day, it's the most efficient and it makes the most sense."
"The most sense?" Angel asks. "How do you figure that, huh?"
Erik takes a long drag on his cigarette, then lets it dangle between his fingers as he considers his answer.
"I love him," he finally says. "I've never felt this way about someone before. And I could go back to Germany and never see him again and never know if we could have worked or I could give it a try and see what happens. If it doesn't work out, I'll know and I'll still have my job and my life. I won't wonder."
Angel nods. It's funny, how when Erik says it, it sounds reasonable and logical and when Raven says it, it sounds like her brother turned a corner somewhere.
"I can respect that," she says. "That's how I ended up in Boston. Sort of. Mine didn't work out, but I hope yours does. Even if I can't imagine willingly marrying into that." She jerks her shoulder back towards the apartment. She's not sure if she can actually hear Raven and Charles shouting at each other still or if she's just imagining it.
Erik raises an eyebrow. "I've known Charles for two months," he says. "I knew what I was getting into. You're the one who willing agreed to be party to a family dinner with a group of complete strangers.
Angel winks. "What can I say? I like a pretty girl and I like a challenge. Both of them together? I couldn't resist." She pauses and then admits, "I didn't think it would get this...explosive."
"Nor did I," Erik says. "All I've heard about for weeks is 'Raven this' and 'Raven that.' I thought there would be a great deal more tearful reunion involved, to be honest."
"Oh, there were tears all right," Angel murmurs and Erik laughs.
"The hell of it is," Erik says, "I didn't even know he had money until this week. I mean, obviously, you see the way they are. I knew he came from wealth. But I had no idea he was that Xavier. I suppose I'm used to socialites who throw money away."
"I think she'll mellow," Angel says. "Sometimes a girl has to be a little overprotective of her brother for his own good."
"I wouldn't know," Erik says. "I don't have any siblings."
"You're lucky."
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"Where's Charles?" Erik asks, because he's maybe a little braver than Angel realized, even after he admitted he actually wanted to marry Charles.
"Upstairs," Raven says, still looking like an angry goddess. "Cleaning up."
Erik drops his cigarette to the pavement and grinds it out with his heel.
"I'd better go make sure he doesn't hurt himself doing something so unfamiliar."
Something like a smile flickers across Raven's face very briefly and, yeah, Angel's pretty sure that by the next family holiday, Erik and Raven will be ganging up on Charles like old friends. For now, Erik gives Raven a wide berth as he heads back inside, and once the door squeals shut behind him, Raven sighs and leans against the wall he just vacated.
"Smoke?" Angel asks, and Raven accepts eagerly. She stands closer than Erik did, and Angel lights the cigarette herself, her fingers absently brushing Raven's cheek as she does so.
"I just don't get it," Raven says, letting out her first lungful of smoke on a sigh. "After seeing what Kurt did his mother, I don't understand how Charles could just agree to marry some stranger. I mean, sure, he says for the visa, but I know my brother. He's head over fucking heels for this guy who's just gonna take his money and break his heart and abandon him."
Angel tips her head back and stares into the sky contemplatively. Across the street, the door to one of the other buildings opens, a sea of rambunctious college students spilling out onto the sidewalk, shouting and laughing at each other. Angel watches them as she takes another drag.
"Imagine for a minute," she finally says, "that this isn't why you were coming here. Your brother and Erik met a long time ago and everyone knew they'd be getting married one day and you're here to celebrate their engagement. But you've still never taken the T and you still needed my help to get here."
Raven turns on her side, propped up against the building by her shoulder, her eyes dilated in the dark and from the rush of nicotine, but focused on Angel intensely.
"Okay," she says.
"And you still invite me up and dinner is nice and you're in town for a week and we go out a few times," Angel continues. "And, the day you're set to leave we have coffee and I look a little down, so you say, 'Hey, New York's not that far, we can still see each other sometimes.' And I say, 'No, it's not that--I'm here on a student visa and it's up at the end of the semester and I really don't want to leave my house and my friends and my job, but I've been through all my other options and there's no way out at this point, unless I can rope some chick into marrying me.'"
Raven sucks on her lip and breathes out noisily through her nose. The cigarette dangles from her fingers, forgotten. Angel drops the butt of her own cigarette and crushes the burning tip, before turning to face Raven.
"I'm just saying, sometimes you meet someone and you just...feel something. And the choices are to let it go and always wonder or take a chance and see what happens. From what you said, your step-father is a fucking dick who'd been eyeing your mom before your dad's body was cold. Erik seems like a genuinely okay guy in a bad spot who doesn't want to lose his fellowship or his place or his life or your brother."
Angel plucks the cigarette from Raven's fingers and breathes deeply around it. The end is chilly and tastes like strawberry lip gloss.
"I'm just saying," she says again, "if it was you...what would you do?"
Raven stares at Angel for a moment and then leans forward, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Her lips are soft and slick and taste like artificial strawberries and her fingers resting on Angel's hip startle her into dropping the cigarette in favor of tangling their fingers together.
The air between them is warm and moist and Angel doesn't want to pull away.
A cab speeds down the street, breaking the spell, and Raven jerks back, but only enough to smile wryly. Angel reaches out to tuck Raven's hair behind her ear and lets her fingers linger there.
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"Yeah," Angel agrees, "but does your brother deserve any less?"
Raven shakes her head, but she's smiling as they climb the steps back to Charles' apartment. Smiling and still holding Angel's hand. She waves to her brother tentatively when she pushes open the door and nods at Erik even more tentatively, but there's a spark of warmth there, and Angel knows then that she was right--Raven and Erik will be thick as thieves by Christmas.
And, maybe if she plays her cards right, she'll even be there to see it in person.
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I mean, this is pretty good, I guess.
(OMG!!! ♥ ♥ ♥)
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That said, being a hypocrite I have smoked my share of the wacky weed before people who now sell it added chemicals to cut it with. I admit if it were legal I'd rather see someone smoke a joint than down a glass of liquor. And pure marijuana isn't as harsh on the lungs as cigarettes with tar and nicotine.
Destroy the liver with alcohol or the lungs with cigarettes, though drinkers usually smoke and do both..
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But anyway, as horrible as smoking is - that picture you posted is HOT.